The Other Side of Broken
by skygirl55
Summary: Busy single mom Kate Beckett doesn't have time for unnecessary distractions, particularly from a certain mystery writer she meets on the subway. Then again, he might just be the exact thing she's been searching for. Caskett AU. Trigger warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**The Other Side of Broken**

 _Busy single mom Kate Beckett doesn't have time for unnecessary distractions, particularly from a certain mystery writer she meets on the subway. Then again, he might just be the exact thing she's been searching for._

 **Trigger Warnings** : Reference to sexual assault; domestic abuse. (Note: no assaults take place in the story, but domestic abuse does.)

* * *

 **A/N** : 14 Chapters + Epilogue. Please see the bottom of this chapter for an important note.

* * *

 **One**

"Mommy! C'mon Mommy—the train is here."

Kate Beckett startled from her mental haze with the tug of the tiny hand in hers pulled her back to reality. She gazed down at the girl with shoulder-length chestnut-brown hair, tugging at her arm with all her might, but not making much progress since the woman over three times her size remained statuesque on the platform.

"Sorry, kiddo—let's go."

She gave the child's hand a squeeze and they filed on to the subway car along with the rest of that evening's commuters. Fortunately, she spotted an available seat, but just one. Her kindergartener was still small enough to sit on her lap, but growing independent enough to turn her nose up at the idea. Still five years old she did not entirely grasp the dangers of the subway and refuted Kate's attempts to explain it would be safer for them both if they were seated together on public transit. Abby had, unfortunately, inherited her mother's stubbornness.

As she was not in the mood to argue with her daughter, Kate sat down and allowed Abby to stand in front of her in between her knees. That way, she could not only be braced from falling over as the train came to a halt, but she would be close enough to Kate that she could not be lost—not even in the crowded car. As the subway began moving again, she braced her hands lightly on Abby's sides before moving them to her thighs as she once again became lost in the busy thoughts bouncing around inside her mind.

That day was a Wednesday, just three days into the month. She had already paid her rent on the first, but she would not be paid again until the tenth, making that nine day stretch her least favorite as it was the one when money was tightest—particularly since she had also pre-paid the babysitter on the thirty-first for the current month. They had enough groceries at home that she could make lunch for her daughter for two more school days and scrape together something for herself. She'd have something for dinner, too, but would most likely need to go shopping that weekend, which was okay because she had Saturday off and thankfully Abby had not yet grown out of the stage of enjoying shopping excursions with her mother.

Rounding out the list of things to do in her mind were two loads of laundry, the growing holes in two of Abby's three pairs of leggings, oh and the hood that had ripped off her warmest jacket when she pulled it out of the storage unit—she had to fix that too. Sighing to herself and letting her head roll back so that her chin pointed towards the ceiling, Kate thought for perhaps the millionth time that there were not enough hours in one day.

Thank god she'd had the sense to refuse more than forty-hours' worth of shifts at her job—at least until the holiday crunch came around. She knew it was bad for her career; it had already taken her almost a year longer to make detective than she wanted to, but when balancing her job and life with her daughter, the lesser important of the two was the one that had to suffer. Besides, forty-hours usually meant forty-five at minimum when all said and done with her paperwork; that was just as much as she could dedicate at that time and it would have to be enough—until year-end review time came; then she'd see what her CO said.

Just as Kate was trying to remember if she'd finished filing her last report of the day, her thoughts were interrupted by an unpleasant cold sensation against her leg. Gasping slightly, she gazed down at her right side to see that the woman beside her had dropped the McDonald's take-out cup off her lap. The top of the cup had popped off when it struck her leg which resulted in the ice and what remained of the liquid spilling over her pant leg. To make things worse, the woman beside her didn't seem to notice or care.

As the subway car came to a stop, Kate tried to use the minute they weren't moving to assess the damage, but with all the people filing in and out of the car there was no opportunity to do so. Once they were moving again, she lifted her heel and examined the area; thank god she was wearing black pants, but everything south of her mid-shin was soaked—not to mention cold—even her sock!

"Hold on a second, honey," Kate said, guiding the girl to her left with her hands at her waist. She then dug around in the side pockets of the messenger bag slung across her body until she procured a very wrinkled but clean napkin. Within just moments of blotting her pants the formerly white napkin was saturated with a watery brown, sticky liquid. Grimace on her face, she reached in the bag for another napkin, but found none, which meant she would simply have to suffer through the remainder of their half-hour trip home.

"Well that's not—Abby?" the young mother questioned, a wave of panic crashing through her when she looked up to see that, much to her horror, her child was no longer standing beside her. In fact, Abby was nowhere in her immediately scope of vision. As she could feel the train slowing to a halt in front of its next stop, panic coursed through her veins. The soiled napkin fell from her hand as she stood, and gripped the messenger bag strap with white-knuckled hands.

"Abby? Abigail? Where are you?!" She called out over the noisy whoosh of the subway's movements. Just as sweat beads began to formulate on her brow, a soft giggle filtered through the car and nudged Kate's eardrums. She whipped her head towards the sound and saw the back of her daughter's head as she stood beside a man seated half a car away from her. The man wore a black blazer, had chestnut-brown hair and, somewhat alarmingly, was showing the young girl something in his lap.

Kate surged forward, pushing her way through the groups of people standing to exit the ever-slowing train until she was able to latch her hand around her daughter's shoulder in a grip that was probably uncomfortably tight. The car stopped and Kate held Abby flush against her side as people moved out of the way; the black blazer wearing man was not one of them. Only when the car was moving again was Kate able to drop to her knees and spin her daughter around.

"Abby! You can't walk away from me like that!"

"I just wanted to see the mouse, Mommy."

"M-mouse?!" She had heard of rats on the subway, of course, but never mice. Then again, she tried to turn a blind eye to the vermin population as best she could; it was better that way. Abby had never before show interest in any—oh. Kate realized when she glanced around her daughter's head that the strange man held a clear plastic cage on his lap. So it wasn't a subway mouse, but a pet mouse. Was that really any better?

"It's a gerbil actually."

The man's smooth baritone pulled Kate's gaze from the cage to his face where she did a double-take. This man with well-coiffed brown hair and sparkling blue eyes was not a stranger at all. Well, he was in the sense that Abby had never met him before, but he certainly was not unknown to her. Unless her eyes were playing tricks on her she most definitely knew who he was. In her shock, she couldn't respond, at least not until Abby said, "Gerbil—I wanted to see the gerbil, Mommy."

"I'm sorry, ma'am; I thought you knew she walked over here. I never meant any harm."

His eyes were warm and his smile gentle as he spoke. For the first time in quite some time, Kate's heart did a summersault in her chest. She cleared her throat and shifted her gaze back to her daughter, silently cursing the betraying organ. Loosening up her death grip on Abby's shoulder, Kate stood and shook off the man's apology. No, she doubted very much that Richard Castle meant harm. After all, minor celebrities were generally not arrested for kidnapping and, thanks to Page Six, she already knew his attraction was fixated on large-breasted, blonde women not pre-teen girls. Still, Abby should not have wandered away from her and they were definitely going to talk about that once they'd said goodbye to the writer.

"What's the gerbil's name?"

"Well, I don't know yet." The man held the cage up at eye-level and Kate was able to see the creature scurry about for the first time. She cringed inwardly; it certainly did look like a mouse. Well, maybe a mouse crossed with a hamster, but that didn't make it any better in her mind.

"I'm going to let my daughter name him."

"Oooh!" Abby cooed, standing up on her toes to see in the cage again. "Is he a present?"

The writer lowered the cage to his lap once more. "Yep! He's an upgrade for her pet fish." Then, turning to Kate, he added out of the corner of his mouth. "The fish recently met a watery grave, so we'll see how this goes."

Despite her lingering concern over Abby, a blip of laughter did burst from her lips at this comment. The noise almost startled her as it had been quite some time since someone other than Abby made her laugh—particularly a male someone. She briefly wondered if the pet fish had met its end due to age or negligent care; for the sake of the gerbil, she wished for the former. "Good luck with that, Mr. Castle."

His eyes flashed with surprise and then his lips curled into a smile. "You know my name—does that mean I can know yours?"

"Kate!" Abby blurted out before Kate could even open her lips.

Feeling the subway slowing once more, Kate reached up and grabbed on to the overhead handle with her right arm while snaking her left around Abby's front, bracing her against her legs. "My name's Kate; hers is Abby."

The man stood, cage in hand, and nodded towards both women. "Well it's nice to meet you both; I hope you have a great evening."

"You too!" Abby chirped. The writer nodded and then exited the car, new pet in hand. The little girl tilted her head back to she gazed up at her mother in an upside-down-and-backwards way. "Can I get a gerbil Mommy? For my birthday?"

Kate sighed and combed her hand through her daughter's hair. "Not this year, kiddo."

Dropping her chin, the young girl let out a long sigh. "Fine…."

* * *

Her heart thundering her in chest, Kate practically shoved her daughter though the open doorway of their apartment and then slipped inside behind her, spinning around and slamming the door shut. She clawed at each of the three locks until they were secure and only then did she let out her breath. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the cool surface of the door, and sucked in a dep breath through her nose, pressing it out between her lips, finally feeling safe.

She hated this. She had never wanted to become this, but things happened; life happened.

Of course rationally she knew the man trailing ten feet behind them walking a golden lab on a navy blue leash probably was not stalking them with the intent to attack. He was simply taking his pet on a walk before it grew too dark. She knew this—but did she? He had been behind them for several blocks—even turning down their street. To the best of her knowledge she had never seen the man or dog before—and she noticed these things. She always noticed the men immediately around her; always was on high alert. And she hated it. Yet, that didn't stop her from thinking that way. She had to since, in her mind, it was the only way to keep them safe.

"What's for dinner Mommy?"

"Ah." Kate hedged as she lifted her head from the door and turned to see her daughter pulling off her shoes, her coat already deposited on the floor. She picked up the object and tossed it over the clothes tree before shedding her own. "Chicken. And rice."

"Again?"

The mother's heart twitched at the sight of her daughter's scrunched nose. It was the…fourth, maybe fifth night in a row they had chicken, but it had been on sale so she'd bought in bulk—same with the rice. She tried to mix up the spices and flavorings she used but, in all honesty, she was not the most creative cook—especially with the limited amount of time she had. She was doing the best she could, even if it never seemed to be enough.

"How about I let you use barbeque sauce instead of ketchup tonight?"

Abby shrugged. "Okay."

"Take your backpack to your desk, please." She called after the girl now dragging the pink-and-purple object across the hardwood behind her.

Stepping into the kitchen, Kate skimmed her eyes over the calendar hanging on the front of their refrigerator. Her face flushed for the third time that evening when she saw in block letters the word "JOHNNY" beginning on Friday with an arrow dragging all the way through Sunday. How could she have forgotten that this was her daughter's weekend with her father? First and third weekends—like clockwork. Just the thought of seeing his smirk and his—no. No she wouldn't do that to herself. Not tonight. They were going to have a good evening together until Abby went to bed. Then, she'd deal with Johnny.

* * *

"Pumpkin?" Richard Castle called out to his only child when he slipped inside his apartment still carrying the unnamed gerbil in his hand. As she was not in the immediate vicinity, he smiled to himself and tip-toed his way into the living area, cage in hand. He had hoped to surprise her and it seemed he would be successful.

He felt bad—really, he did. All Alexis had wanted for her birthday that year had been a pet, but he thought it best to start small, especially since she was far too young to walk a dog alone outside in the city and he was pretty sure his mother was allergic to cats. Though she'd seemed slightly disappointed, she was excited about the fish—even requested to keep "Spot" in her room. At the time of purchase, the pet store owner had told him the fish would be a piece of cake to take care of. Piece of cake—yeah right.

Two days later, the fish's container was so filthy they could hardly see him in it. Even with regular water changing, their aquatic friend only lasted two weeks until Alexis's shriek awoke him on a Friday morning and he raced upstairs to find Spot belly up in his bowl. He hoped they would have more success with the rodent though, once again, the pet store owner had promised care would be simple; that remained to be seen.

Castle walked over to the stairs and called out for his daughter. She responded with, "Be down in a sec, Dad!"

He waited patiently for her, his thoughts drifting back to the smiling little girl on the subway—Abby. She was so adorable when she walked up to him with her big, curious brown eyes and said a meek hello. He would have been concerned, but he'd seen her walk onto the car with her mother at the prior stop and figured she'd asked permission to come see what was in the cage. That had, as it turned out, been a wrong assumption, but it had worked out in the end, particularly when he'd discovered her beautiful mother was a fan of his books. Well, at least aware of them—otherwise, she probably would not have recognized him.

As he'd been trying—and failing—for several months to come up with a new character to begin a new book series, he had been contemplating riding the subway somewhat regularly over rush hour as a way of doing research; there was no better people watching experience than on a New York subway. If, perhaps, he did decide to do that, he might have the pleasure of running into Abby or Kate again, and that was certainly an attractive notion.

"What's up Dad?"

Castle gazed up the stairs and smiled at his little girl. "C'mere—I have a surprise for you."

"What kind of surprise?" she asked, the brown of her blue eyes arching in curiosity.

"It's on the table; go look."

She hurried over to the living area, but stopped a few feet short of the table, crouched down, and gazed in through the side of the cage. Turning back to her father she asked, "What's in there?"

"It's a gerbil. Thought he might be more interactive than Spot. You can even take him out and hold him!"

"Oh. Thanks."

At her dejected sounding tone, he asked, "What's wrong, Alexis? I thought you wanted a pet."

"I do…but what if I kill the gerbil too?"

Shaking his head, he patted her arm and sat on the edge of the couch so he could look at her. "You didn't kill the fish, Alexis. We…we didn't have the right equipment to take care of him properly, which was more my fault than yours. We'll work together to take care of this little guy and it'll go much better—I promise."

That, or he'd revert to his backup plan: stealthily replacing this gerbil with a look-alike one on the off chance the gerbil failed to thrive.

She shrugged and dropped down to the floor to gaze at her new pet. "Okay; thanks, Dad."

"No problem, pumpkin. Now, why don't you think of a name while I start dinner?" After giving her shoulder another squeeze, Castle made his way to the kitchen where the makings for dinner awaited him in the refrigerator.

* * *

 **A/N:** It is with a heavy heart that I must tell all of you that this story will likely be the last I post on this site. I'm not saying it will be the last, but it could be and I wanted to give everyone fair warning.

Because of the personal attacks I've received on social media sites and previously on this site, here's how this is gonna go:

Guest review moderate is on. There will be a **zero tolerance** policy for reviews that personally attack me or are extremely off topic for this fic.

This story has extremely serious subject matter and if that's not your cup of tea; that's fine-you don't have to read it, but it also should not detract from other's experience.

Thank you for your consideration; I hope you enjoy the story.


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

Kate Beckett pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand as she and her daughter stepped into the subway car that particularly busy Friday afternoon. God, her head was throbbing. As if being clobbered in the face by a resisting suspect's floundering arms hadn't been bad enough that day, she'd had an unpleasant encounter with the usually well-tempered babysitter, and the strap on her messenger bag had ripped. Because the universe decided that level of suffering wasn't quite enough, she still had Johnny to contend with and, at the rate they were going, they'd be late for their meetup which surely would put him in an even more disagreeable mood than normal.

Perfect.

As a small win that evening, she was able to find two side-by-side seats on the subway and settled herself and Abby into them. Once the car was moving, the young girl reached over and took her mother's hand, petting the back of it as tenderly as she would a fluff-covered kitten. "It's okay, Mommy; next year I can stay by myself."

The pulsating throb behind her eyes distracting her a bit too much, Kate had absolutely no idea as to what her daughter could be referring. "Wha…What are you talking about Abs?"

"I heard that lady say you were short on payment so next year I can stay home by myself."

Oh, perfect—she hadn't been too distracted with putting on her coat and shoes to hear like Kate had hoped; the evening was getting better. Letting out a heavy breath Kate pressed her lips together and prepared herself to answer. Not only was this _not_ the conversation she wanted to have that evening, but the little girl had inadvertently received the wrong impression. Well, mostly the wrong impression.

Short-paying the babysitter by a little over a hundred dollars was absolutely not intentional. She honestly wasn't sure how it had happened since she always paid from the invoice provided, but she must have been distracted (there's a shock) and written the wrong amount on the check. It was an honest mistake that she couldn't fix until the following week owing to the fact that she didn't carry her checkbook with her—nor did she have enough cash on hand to make up the difference.

Really, she thought Mrs. Quinn was being a bit unreasonable. She had never before short paid or even been late with her payments so having such an aggressive reaction to something accidental seemed uncalled for in her opinion, but she also understood; Mrs. Quinn was trying to make ends meet as well.

Unfortunately from the bit of their conversation she overheard, Abby seemed to have picked up the impression that Kate could not afford her childcare, which was not entirely truthful. Yes, the fact that she had to pay for after-school, weekend, and, on rare occasion, even over-night childcare was certainly a strain on her budget, but they had finally climbed out of the paycheck-to-paycheck hole they'd fallen into earlier that year after he father's third stint in rehab. It just so happened that this payment fell at the roughest portion of her month, but Johnny's child support would appear in her bank account on Monday, so they would be fine; everything would be fine.

"Abby." Kate breathed out, reopening her eyes. "You absolutely cannot stay in the apartment by yourself while I'm at work next year."

The little girl shrugged as if her suggestion was the most obvious and helpful in the world. "Sure I can."

The elder woman arched her eyebrow. "Yeah? And how will you get home from school?"

Abby swung her feet as they dangled from her seat and smiled up at her mother. "The subway; I'm good at the subway."

Kate turned her head away so she could roll her eyes without the little girl seeing. Yes, she had thoroughly explained the subway system and their routes to-and-from important landmarks before Abby was even able to speak, but that did not mean the girl was ready for her own card—she didn't even meet the height requirements (yet)! Traveling by herself on the subway at her age would be incredibly unsafe—not to mention illegal. But, naturally, her stubborn little one did not want to believe that, so she simply had to hope Abby forgot about the suggestion by the time the next school year rolled around.

"Look Mommy!"

Kate hummed and looked towards her daughter's extended right index finger as the subway car emptied and filled in its usual hustle-and-bustle fashion, further heightened by the fact that it was a Friday night—and it was raining outside. Much to her surprise, she recognized the man towards whom Abby pointed. Before she could even process his presence, the young girl chirped, "It's the gerbil man!"

Abby immediately stood from her seat, but Kate clawed at the sleeve of her jacket, holding her back. "What are you doing?"

She glanced over at her mother with an isn't-it-obvious expression. "Going to say hi; he's our friend."

"Wha—no. No." They had just had this conversation two days earlier and Kate thought Abby understood. She was, under no circumstances, supposed to leave her mother's side on the subway without express permission. That included going over to say hello to mystery writers who probably didn't even—oh. Oh, he caught her eye and gave her a small wave. Damn.

"Abby." Kate began, speaking directly into her daughter's ear as the car began to move once more. "Mr. Castle is just another man on the subway and you shouldn't-"

"Well, if it isn't my friends Abby and Kate." The writer grinned at them as he gripped onto the handlebar over their head with both hands.

The smile Abby shot Kate over her shoulder could not have more loudly screamed "I told you so" and it caused Kate to immediately fear for the young brunette's teenage years. "Hi! Come sit by us!"

Without even asking for permission, Abby clambered up into Kate's lap, vacating her seat for the writer, who thanked her and sat beside them, tucking his folded hands between his knees. "So how are you ladies this fine evening?"

"Good! How's your gerbil?"

" _Hamlet_ ," he emphasized the pet's name, "is a biter, but Alexis seems amused with him."

"Is she your daughter? Is she my age?"

"Abby," Kate said warningly, giving the girl's side a squeeze. She honestly was not sure what Abby's future career path would be—as she was only in kindergarten, it was far too early to decide, plus her interests seemed to shift too rapidly—however, with the number of questions she liked to throw at people, she wouldn't make a half-bad investigator.

The writer flashed Kate a smile that assured her he was fine with the question, and then he looked back to her daughter. "I think she's a little older than you—she just turned twelve."

"I'm six! Almost!"

"Almost!" The writer echoed both the word and enthusiasm level. "When's your birthday?"

"November."

"But it is November! It must be very soon."

Abby craned her neck upwards so she could gaze at her parent. "Mommy?"

"The twentieth." Kate breathed out her answer while silently adding, _three days after mine_. Not that her birthday mattered much those days—even if it was a milestone one.

"What?!" Castle proclaimed, his excitement growing. "That's in…" He made a dramatic show of counting on his fingers before proclaiming fifteen days! Or just about two weeks."

"Soon!" Abby proclaimed.

He poked her knee. "Very soon. What do you want for your birthday?"

"I asked Mommy for a gerbil!"

The writer grimaced up at Kate and dramatically mouthed the word, "Sorry."

She shrugged her shoulders and patted her daughter's hip. "I told Abby she's still a little too young for pets."

The man nodded. "So what else did you ask for?"

"A magnifying glass."

* * *

"Ah…huh." Castle hummed at the mention of the gift request he never would have expected coming from a six-year-old. The way she nodded and smiled made her seem as though she was quite convinced with her gift choice, which led him to believe that there was more to the story, so he gazed up at the lovely mother for an explanation. Thankfully, she gave him one.

"Abby has informed me she wants to be a scientist and scientists need magnifying glasses."

"Ah, yes; right!" He proclaimed turning back to the nodding little girl. "You will make an awesome scientist, I'm sure of it. What field do you want to focus on?"

"Science!"

He couldn't help but laugh. Okay, as advanced as Abby seemed for her age—reminiscent of his own daughter's bursting curiosity in her early years—perhaps the question was a bit over her head, but he went with it. "Well, sure—you can do a little of all the sciences to make it interesting for yourself."

"Right."

Leaning back in his seat, Castle took in the duo who strongly resembled each other both in the shape of their forehead and eyes. The only difference in that area being that the mother's eyes were more honey-brown, but the daughters were decidedly darker. Both, however, were beautiful. Though it was only his second run-in with them, he continually found himself more and more intrigued. Kate wore no wedding ring, which led him to conclude she was a single mother working to make a life for them both. He hoped he would continue to run into them over the next several weeks so that he could learn more about them. If nothing else, he hoped to make Abby smile a few more times, for she was certainly adorable when she smiled.

As the subway car slowed on approach of its next stop, he watched Kate gather up the messenger bag she wore, and the pink-and-purple backpack that had slid to the crook of her daughter's left arm. "Our stop's next, bug; say goodbye to Mr. Castle."

"Please—call me Rick." He interjected.

Abby hopped off her mother's lap and gave him more of a salute than a wave. "Bye Rick!"

"Bye Abby."

As the car's breaks began to squeal, the writer stood along with the female duo, which conveniently enabled the mother to lean closer to him to speak. "Thank you for being so nice to her, but you really don't have to."

He shook off her statement which he found to be absurd. "But I want to; I always love hearing the interesting things little kids have to say." As the car doors opened, he nodded to them and added, "Have a good evening, Kate."

She gave him a rather uncertain expression. "Thanks, ah, you too."

* * *

"DADDY!"

Abby squealed the exact moment they stepped out of the elevator and rounded the corner towards the Giannotti apartment, where Johnny loitered in the doorway. He crouched down to pull her into his arms as she ran at him. "Abby, Abby, never-crabby! Good to see you, kiddo. Go on—Nonna's got dinner all ready for you."

Unlike her child, Kate did not share the enthusiasm for the five-foot-ten, dark-haired man now folding his arms over his chest in disgust. In fact, the mere sight of him made her want to vomit, but she bit down the bile for the sake of her daughter. She knew what it was like to be without a parent and—god help her—her child would not suffer the same fate.

"You're late."

"Yeah, well; it's raining. We got here as fast as we could." Her tone was exhausted as she handed over the messenger bag that contained enough of Abby's belongings to last the weekend. Johnny took the bag and tossed it carelessly into the apartment hallway.

"Ma's had dinner ready for over half an hour."

She shrugged. "Sorry."

With whip-quick reflexes, Johnny's left hand snapped towards her and closed agonizingly tight around her right bicep. Kate went immediately ridged, as though she were a misbehaving puppy snatched by the scruff of her neck. "I would think," Johnny began, his voice as nasty as ever, "you wouldn't want your little girl to be hungry longer than she had to be."

"Sh-she didn't say anything to me." Kate replied, sucking in a fresh gulp of oxygen in hopes of keeping herself upright while anxiety and terror coursed through her.

Johnny's right hand clamped down on her left bicep and he drew close enough to her that she could feel his spittle on her nose as he spoke. "'cause she's too polite. She doesn't want to upset her mother." The nails of his thumb and index finger dug deeper into her flesh, enough to draw blood were she not wearing a coat. "Don't do it again."

He shoved her aside as carelessly as one would toss a used napkin, turned, and shut the apartment door behind him without another word. Kate stumbled back towards the elevator, using her right hand against the wall for support, but she did not breathe again until she was inside the car descending back to the lobby.

Seeing him never got easier, even if it was only four times a month—less if she was lucky enough to have Mrs. Giannotti return Abby to her. Kate hated Johnny both for the way he acted towards her and for the way he made her feel—helpless. She hated feeling helpless ever since the night over a decade earlier when she'd learned she'd never see her mother alive again.

Johnny was, without question, one of the worst men she'd ever met. He proved that with the first strike of his hand, and reaffirmed with every backhand, harsh grab, and vile word thereafter. He also was Abby's father, and the little girl was fortunate to be the apple of her father's eye—not to mention adored by her only living grandmother. Kate wouldn't take that from her daughter even if each interaction rattled her for days after. Not until she was eighteen, anyway; then, Abby could make her own decisions about her father. Until then, Kate would do as the courts demanded, even if it did make her feel like the worst mother on the planet.

* * *

 **A/N** : Words really do not begin to express my gratitude for the positive outpouring I received from the first chapter of this story. It's so nice to hear how many people still enjoy and appreciate Castle fanfic, even a year after the show has been off the air. As i said, I haven't made a final decision yet, but I very much appreciate your support and kind words and I hope you all continue to enjoy this fic.


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Pumpkin?" Richard Castle gazed over at his daughter as they ambled down the sidewalk, which was difficult given the sixteen party balloons he clutched in his fist, each of them bouncing around against each other, occasionally knocking into his nose and forehead.

Alexis laughed and gazed down at the box of additional party supplies she toted. "Kind of committed now, Dad." His expression turned hesitant and then she shook her head. "Really, it's fine. It's really sweet, actually. I'm glad to help—and I want to meet them."

"Glad to hear it," he said because he wanted her to meet them to—'them' meaning the two women he referred to as his "subway buddies"; Kate and her daughter, Abby.

Ever since meeting them at the beginning of the month—two and a half weeks earlier—Castle had bumped into them on their subway ride home an average of three days a week, thanks to some purposefully planned riding and observing on his part. For the first few days, he still had to approach them, despite the little girl eagerly waving to him the moment she caught his eye, but finally, at the end of the prior week, when Kate had entered the subway car he was in, she led Abby in his direction, and took the seat he'd saved beside him, which made him particularly proud. She was clearly the more closed off of the two, but at least he'd worn her down that much and intended to continue that process in the future. Simply put: they fascinated him.

The little girl—Abby? Well, Castle had hardly met a six-year-old he didn't like or find adorable. She was a joy to talk to every time he interacted with her, but her mother, Kate, was where his real interest lay. She was endlessly intriguing and yet equally mysterious. Other than her name, he knew little about her. Finally earlier that week she'd finally admitted to being a homicide detective (which, frankly, only served to fuel his intrigue since that was an _awesome_ not to mention badass profession), but otherwise he still knew quite little—and what he did know about their family he learned from Abby.

Kate was certainly the quieter of the two. Unless directly asked a question, she rarely participated in their conversations, but it wasn't as though she was texting or ignoring them in some way. She was listening and engaged with her daughter, often holding her on her lap in the crowded car, but quiet. Whenever he did meet her eye, he saw that even though she may have had a soft smile on her face, her eyes reflected a deep, desperate sadness, which perplexed him given what a delight her child was. Surely, she filled her mother's heart with joy, so what else dragged her down so far? He wasn't sure, but hoped to learn.

During their chatting sessions, which usually lasted around twenty minutes or so, he always tried to work Abby's birthday into the conversation since he knew it was on the horizon. She informed him that her Daddy and Nonna were going to make her the cake that was her favorite: vanilla batter with chocolate icing.

From the way she spoke about them, Castle deduced that the little girl did not live with her father or grandmother, which made sense given that her mother wore no rings on her left hand. This was, of course, far from an atypical story those days. Hell, his own daughter was down to just one constant parent by the same age, but it did make him sad and want to do something special for the girl's birthday.

The following day when he found them on the subway, he was surprised when Kate pressed a folded sheet of paper in his hand with a slightly uncertain look as they said goodbye. In the note, she thanked him for being so kind to her daughter, but asked that he not encourage the birthday talk too much. Evidently, money was tight and she was trying to, in her words, "temper Abby's excitement," for the event.

Upon reading this, Castle knew _exactly_ what he was going to do for the little girl. Temper excitement? For a six year old's birthday? What a terrible idea! No; he was going to make it a birthday to remember by throwing her a mini party on the subway. What kid wouldn't like that?

When he informed his daughter of his plan, she merely rolled her eyes in her usual "Dad's gone crazy again" fashion, but agreed to assist him in his endeavor. He had, of course, occasionally mentioned the duo and Alexis confessed to assuming he wanted to ask Kate out on a date. While he certainly had not ruled out that prospect, the way she acted told him she wouldn't agree. No, he needed to befriend her first, which was perfectly acceptable in his mind; he never could have too many friends—particularly when they were beautiful women.

"So," Alexis grunted as they made their way through the subway turnstiles with goodies still in hand, "what happens if you pick the wrong subway car to set this stuff up in?"

"Shhh!" he hushed her immediately. "Don't put that out there—I haven't been wrong yet and I won't be wrong today either."

She gave him a pointed look. "Whatever you say, Dad."

* * *

"Alright kiddo—hop to it or we're going to be late." Kate nudged her little one forward once the train coasted to a halt. Even if she had bumped their arrival time by half an hour just in case—and to avoid a potential incident like the last one—she was still nervous about being late. Traveling on Friday's at rush-hour in the city really was the absolute worst time but they didn't have a choice so she knew they had to make the best of it.

Kate was so busy trying to make sure neither she nor Abby were caught up in the sea of humans moving in the opposite direction that she did not even notice anything unusual about the subway car until they were inside and her child cried out, "Mommy look!"

As her eyes had been trained on Abby's tiny figure, Kate lifted her head and her jaw dropped at what she saw: a massive cluster of balloons just a few feet away and yellow and pink cray paper strung from the hand-hold bars at the top of the car. "Wha…" The question was lost to the noise of the subway as she stumbled forward when the car began to move. Kate reached out and gripped onto one of the central upright poles as she attempted to process what she was witnessing.

Had it just been the balloons, Kate would have been amused at the thought of some poor man or woman wrangling such an unruly bundle on and off the tight subway at rush-hour. She also would have been very glad that person was not her. The cray paper, however, seemed more purposeful. Someone had intentionally decorated the subway car, but who? And why?

Had Kate not been so tired from her grueling week or focused on getting her daughter to her father not a moment too late, she might have figured it out, but in that moment they remained in the dark while Abby hung back and observed the display with starry eyes. "They're so pretty, Mommy; can we go look?"

"Um, I guess." Not that she had much choice as the little one was already charging forward. They slowly made their way to the midpoint in the car at which point the buddle of balloons parted and a familiar face appeared. The writer grinned down at Abby and proclaimed, "Boo!" as he tried to bop her in the face with one of the balloons. The child squealed joyfully.

"Rick! Mommy, it's Rick!"

"I should have known." Her mother muttered.

The man knelt down on the floor of the subway car and held the balloons up over his head so he could clearly see the child. "Happy Birthday Abby."

"But my birthday's tomorrow!"

"I know, but we only see each other on weekdays. Plus, I wanted to surprise you, and I can't throw you a surprise birthday party on your actual birthday." He added in a tone that made his statement seem as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Abby immediately began jumping up and down, taking her mother's hand and forearm along for the ride. "Mommy! Mommy! A surprise party!"

The writer glanced up at Kate and winked before pushing himself into a standing position, plucking one balloon out of his bundle, and passing it over to the little girl. She let go of her mother's hand to take the object. Just as Kate was about to open her mouth to protest this whole scene, the train began slowing in approach of its next stop and Kate reached out to brace Abby from falling over.

"Are all these balloons for me?"

"Sure thing—as long as your mom agrees. Oh, and I brought reinforcements."

When he stepped aside, Kate noticed for the first time a young red-headed girl who looked just on the cusp of becoming a teenager. Given her piercing blue eyes and the fact that she wore a party hat that matched the man's, Kate could only assume this young girl was the writer's daughter, Alexis.

The red-head knelt down and held a purple party hat out to Abby. "Hi Abby; happy birthday."

The not-quite six-year-old took the hat as though it were a gold bar, and then thanked her profusely. When the red-head stood, she faced Kate and gave a small wave.

"You must be Alexis."

"And you must be Kate; nice to put a face with a name."

"Same." Kate said as she shook the younger girl's outstretched hand, suddenly feeling as though she was interacting with a girl in her late teens as opposed to one not quite in them.

Their make-shift party was interrupted by the subway car coming to a stop and people getting on and off the car. The writer must have received at least a dozen or more bizarre looks regarding his huge balloon display, but it did not seem to bother him at all; he merely kept smiling. Once the car was moving again he pulled a lumpy wrapped package out of a box sitting on a seat nearby. "Look at this, I think it might be-"

"Oh, no," Kate tried to chime in, but it was too late; her daughter's eyes had already lit with excitement.

"Is that for me!?"

"You bet it is. Here, we'll switch." He said, taking her balloon and hat and giving her the package instead. "Go on, open it!"

"What is it?" Abby asked as she began tugging at the pink-and-purple balloon-covered wrapping paper.

"I dunno; open it and see." The writer replied with a wink.

Kate watched with no small amount of anxiety as her child ripped into her first birthday present of the year. She was practically in too much a state of shock to do anything but make sure they weren't jostled or bumped into by the other passengers clearly annoyed by the spectacle the writer had caused. Balloons and cray paper would have been over-top enough, but a present? She appreciated that he was being nice, but this really was way too far; they were practically strangers!

When Abby finally extricated her gift from its wrapping, she dropped the paper on the floor and unfolded the white cloth object with a wrinkled brow. As Kate stooped down to grab the discarded wrapping, Abby asked, "What is this?"

"It's a lab coat since you're going to be a scientist."

"Yeah see." Alexis, the only remaining person with free hands, stepped forward and took the coat so she could hold it up for the little girl to see. Pointing to what would be the coat's top left side, she pointed to the navy blue embroidery. "It even has a nice big "A" on it for Abby."

"What do you say, Abby?" Kate coached on autopilot.

Abby grabbed the coat and clutched it to her chest. "Thank you! Thank you!"

While Alexis pointed out the coats pockets and buttons, Kate stepped forward and spoke directly into the writer's ear. "This was very sweet, Mr. Castle, but completely unnecessary."

He gazed at her as though she had said birthday cake was a stupid tradition. "What? No. Who hasn't wanted to have a subway birthday party?"

"Um…everyone." She concluded. Then, she shook her head. "But that's not—the point is that you didn't have to do any of this. I mean, I can't-"

"Kate." His lips broadened in a way that made her neck flush with heat though she desperately tried to ignore it. "Don't worry about it; I'm happy to do it."

"You just went to so much effort…"

The writer gazed down at the little girl now struggling to put her lab coat on overtop of her regular jacket. "I just wanted my subway buddy to have a nice birthday. And," he added, turning his gaze back to Kate, "I'd like to take you all to dinner to celebrate."

Dinner? Now this had definitely gotten out of hand. Thankfully, she had the perfect excuse already built in. "We can't—we already have plans."

He shrugged casually. "Figured as much. How about a dinner rain check instead?"

"I, ah, maybe. I don't know."

"Well think about it, okay?"

She bit down on her lip and nodded her head, though in her mind they would never accept his invitation. He was being unbearably kind and she appreciated that, but dinner with one of her favorite authors all because of her daughter's birthday? That was just far too weird. They needed to limit their interaction to the subway so they didn't…well, it would just be better that way.

"Mommy look!"

Kate gazed down at her child and couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous she appeared. She had pulled the lab coat on over her regular jacket, though just barely. Her arms didn't even lower to her sides so she ended up looking like an awkward mannequin. "Honey, I don't think that's how you should wear it."

"But I'm a scientist, Mommy!"

Kate smiled down at her and nodded. "Yeah, Abs, you are."

Just then the subway car began to slow down once more, thrusting Abby forward into the writer's legs. She used this opportunity to lobster-claw herself around his thigh and thank him once more, but the noise was mostly lost to the squealing breaks of the car.

Rick patted her head and smiled. "Any time, Abby; any time."

* * *

 **A/N** : As always, thank you so much for your support of this story!


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

Sitting on the subway after her shift, Kate did not pay much attention to anything other than the thoughts in her own head; she was too busy thinking about all the things she needed to get done that evening. In addition to household cleaning and copious amounts of laundry, she needed to purchase groceries for the week ahead, pick up her dry-cleaning, and find new winter boots for Abby since she'd outgrown her ones from the previous year. On top of all that, her gut was still pulsating with guilt for not staying at the precinct for longer after her shift—one of the rare nights she didn't have to pick up her daughter in a timely manner and she hadn't used it to catch up on paperwork, which was probably something she'd later regret.

Kate was so distracted with her thoughts that she didn't even notice the familiar figure standing in front of her until his second, purposefully obnoxious, throat clearing. When she glanced up, a breathy laugh escaped her lips thanks to his pointed stare; he really did know how to make an entrance. She pulled her bag into her lap to make room for him on the seat beside her and then echoed his cheerful greeting.

"I, ah, don't want to alarm you, but I think you're missing something."

She nodded; it was the first time he had seen her without her pint-sized companion, so she understood why he might be concerned even if his tone was playful. "In-service day at school—Abby's spending it with my father."

"Gotcha. Did you guys have a nice Thanksgiving?"

The detective shrugged. "It was fine, I guess; nothing special. Abby and I watched the parade in the morning and then we went to my dad's for dinner. How was yours?"

Castle nodded. "Good, good. We went up to Vermont for a few days to ski. Well, I helped Alexis ski the bunny slopes and my mother picked up men in the hotel—so a standard vacation for us." Kate's expression turned to one that was a mix of a smirk and a grimace and he waved his hand casually. "She's one of a kind, my mother, but after almost forty years I'm used to it."

"Guess you'd have to be."

They sat silently side by side as the train stopped at the next platform and then continued rolling on its way. As they started moving, Kate glanced over at the writer who sat with a pleasant expression on her face, his hands tucked between his knees. Despite the fact that he was sitting there beside her and they had interacted somewhat regularly over the prior month, it was still difficult for her to believe that _Richard Castle_ was actually someone she could call an acquaintance (despite what her daughter thought he had not, in her mind, officially reached "friend" status yet).

On one hand it was hilarious that the man whose books once decorated her nightstand was conversing with her so casually. She had never in a million years thought she would meet up with him—outside of one of his signing events, that was. Yet, there he sat—after he'd sought her out, no less.

Even if he had not been a quasi-celebrity, Kate still would have been stunned by the metamorphosis that had taken place within her in four short weeks. Outside of her job where speaking with people was not an option but a necessity Kate had not willingly spoken to a strange man in quite some time. The reasons were varied, but suffice to say she just wasn't in that headspace. Of course she had to interact with male retail workers or cab drivers, and though wary she accepted that as part of her adult life, but she actually had conversations with the writer—personal conversations—and, even more shockingly, they didn't bother her. She might have even gone as far as to say that she looked forward to seeing him on the subway. If nothing else, she looked forward to observing his interactions with Abby as they really were endearing.

Then again perhaps it made sense as Richard Castle was not an ordinary stranger. True, she had not spoken him previously seeing as the hello and thank you she said to him at his book signing seven years earlier hardly counted, but she did know him on some level. She had read articles about him in newspapers and seen the occasional television interview and from those she'd gathered that while he certainly knew how to crack jokes, he was more arrogant than not. Also, given the varied number of blondes that hung on his arm in Page Six images, probably a bit of a playboy. All of those deductions just went to prove that the writer, just like his books, could not be judged by their outward appearances alone.

Arrogant was certainly not anywhere near the top of the list of descriptors she would use for Richard Castle. Ever since they'd meet he'd be kind, generous, and a seemingly down-to-earth human being. In addition, he seemed to be quite a fantastic father, which was certainly a surprise. In fact, just about the only thing from her initial impression of him that rang true was his clear sense of humor, which was arguably one of his best qualities.

"So, no Abby, huh?" he continued after several minutes silence between them. "You miss her when she's gone?"

She cringed. "Ah…am I a terrible mom for saying not always?"

He smiled. "No."

"I mean, I miss her when she spends a weekend at her dad's, but today? I have a lot of errands to run so I'm glad for the break."

"Fair enough. I know the feeling. Alexis is just now getting to the age where she can stay by herself if I just have to run to pick up take out or do something quick, but dragging her through a grocery store was never fun—especially not at this time of year with all the crowds. I was always worried she'd get lost."

"Oh yeah. Abby's pretty good about not wandering off…except on the subway recently because of someone," she added pointedly.

He grinned. "I cannot imagine who that would be."

Fighting to keep from rolling her eyes she said, "I'm sure."

After just another moment, the subway car began slowing rapidly—much quicker than it usually did—and came to the stop in the middle of a dark tunnel. While this was not entirely unheard of, especially at rush-hour, it did seem odd, and had Kate, along with many of the other passengers looking around with great curiosity.

"Delay on the line, you think?"

"Hopefully not." She responded. Typically, mid-tunnel stops only lasted a minute or two. If it went any longer then she would start to worry.

As she sat beside the writer in the stalled car, Kate could not help but think of how exceedingly odd it was the he was there, in the subway, at rush-hour. One day now and then would have been plausible, but the frequency at which they saw him implied that he might have been one of the other commuters, except that made no sense. Though she was not intimately familiar with the profession, she did not think that writers went to work in an office that was outside their home—at least, not those of his caliber. Thus, she could not help but be curious why he was there. Seeing an opportunity to find out, she took it.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why...why are you on this train so often? I mean: don't you work from home?"

He bobbed is head. "I do. Or at a coffee shop nearby. I'm on here for research."

Her eyes widened. That made some sense, but really just invited more questions. "Research? Is Derrek Storm going to be involved in a subway hijack?"

A grin immediately spread across his face. "No, but I'm thrilled to know that you're a fan." Kate dropped her chin and blushed, but the writer continued as though he didn't notice. "The subway at rush-hour is ultimate people watching. Plus I get to meet lovely people like you and your daughter and learn their stories."

At this, she bristled and crossed her right leg over the other, tightening her grip on the bag in her lap. "Our stories aren't up for grabs, Mr. Castle."

He shifted in his seat so he faced her more directly. "Please, I didn't mean to offend you or pry into something that's your personal business. Besides, I don't need the entire story just some of it. Like you, for instance. Single mom—you and Abby's father aren't together for a reason—whatever it is, doesn't matter. But for me? Oh well it could be anything. Abby's father was an astronaut tragically lost on a mission to Mars."

Her brow wrinkled. "And…how does that fit with Derrek Storm?"

"Oh it doesn't—just an example of how my mind works."

"I see." She commented while thinking that his mind must have been an interesting if not slightly strange place.

* * *

"Oh great; now it says delayed." Castle had not been looking at his watch when the train came to a stop mid-tunnel, thinking it wouldn't be more than a minute or two, but if he had to guess at least five or six had passed—possibly a little longer.

"Perfect." The detective beside him huffed.

"You have to pick up Abby?"

She shook her head. "No, my dad's keeping her overnight, but my errands…"

"Maybe it won't be long. Plus it gives us more of a chance to get to know each other." Castle never wanted to turn down an opportunity to get to know the lovely woman beside him better—particularly now that her daughter wasn't around. He liked Abby, he really did; she was adorable and precocious—two of his favorite qualities in little kids, but with her around he certainly needed to keep their topics of conversation G-rated and superficial at best. Perhaps, now that Kate was alone they could delve a bit deeper into getting to know one another.

"There's not much to tell, Mr. Castle. I'm a single mom with a job that takes up more time than it should; we're just trying to survive. That's nothing special."

He hummed. "I disagree completely; that sounds pretty extraordinary to me. Can I ask a question? How come you won't call me Rick?" He found it interesting that despite the fact that her daughter addressed him by his first name—and she allowed it—that she did not follow suit and always addressed him formally.

She shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh um… I dunno. I just knew you as Richard Castle for so long it's hard to be so…familiar."

He nodded. So her hesitation was coming from a fan perspective. He supposed he couldn't fault her for that, but also found himself quite amused. The fact that she had referenced his main character of the moment earlier in their conversation was endlessly delightful to him. He knew that she at least recognized him the first day they met, but that didn't mean she was a fan—that didn't mean she read his works at all. Now that he knew she had to have read at least some of them, he was curious just how familiar she was. "When did you start reading my books?"

"College."

"So a decade?"

"About."

"Interesting. Tell me more. What's your favorite?"

An embarrassed expression crossed her face and she shrugged. "Ah… I dunno. _Flowers for Your Grave_ , I guess. I liked your original stuff."

At her interesting wording, he arched an eyebrow and asked, "You don't like Storm?"

"Oh no he's good."

Now even more curious because of her unconvincing tone, he continued with, "It's okay you can be honest." He appreciated honesty even if it was a bit brutal; he was used to taking that kind from his mother and he doubted the lovely woman beside him would be as blunt.

"The series just kind of feels…repetitive? Sorry."

He shook off her quick apology and couldn't fault her for her opinion as he felt the same. "No it's good; I like honesty. And you're right—I'm kind of bored with him—thinking this book I'm finishing up now might be his last for a while."

"Then what will you write?"

He raised his index finger. "Ah—that's why I'm here for the inspiration, but enough about me. Tell me about you."

She shook her head dismissively and gazed towards subway door. "Like I said, Mr. Castle; I'm not interesting."

"Will you at least drop the mister and call me Castle?"

She looked back to him with a soft smile. "Okay, Castle."

He grinned. "Much better. How about…why'd you become a cop?"

"Ah…seemed like the right thing to do."

Castle felt the hair at the back of his neck prickle at her clipped comment. He had been hoping for an interesting story with regards to why this beautiful, clearly intelligent woman beside him had chosen a career in law enforcement rather than one more suited to the upper-middle-class aura he got from her. He imagined the story was quite interesting, but from her tone it was clear she wasn't going to give it up easily and the last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable, so he altered the course of their conversation.

"Well I think it's great. You're a hero to everyone—especially your daughter."

"Oh I don't know about that."

"You absolutely are. She's wonderful, Kate and that's all because of you."

She smiled a gentle smile that sent his heart fluttering. "Thanks, that's very—oh!" She half-gasped when the train lurched into motion once more.

"Sweet. At least we weren't stuck that long," he commented. Even if they had been stopped for around ten minutes, that certainly was not that dramatic of a delay—at least not as bad as it could have been.

"I can get my errands done after all."

Preparing to get off at the next stop, Castle slid towards the edge of his seat and turned back to face the detective. "Well, good luck with them. And I'm glad we ran into each other again."

She nodded. "Me too."

"Offer still stands for dinner, you know."

"Right…I'll uh, check my schedule and see you sometime."

He dipped his fingers into his jacket pocket and passed over the business card on which he'd written his personal cell phone number in hopes of bumping into the duo once more. "Calling also works."

She dipped her eyes as she accepted the card. "Ah, thanks."

With that, he gave her a nod, and stood as the car slowed to its next stop—this time at an actual platform. "Have a good evening Kate."

"Bye Castle."

Her smile was the last thing he saw before being swept up in a busy sea of commuters leaving the train.

* * *

 **A/N:** I am continually humbled by your reviews - I'm so glad that everyone is enjoying this story!


	5. Chapter 5

**Trigger Warning:** This chapter contains scenes of domestic abuse/violence.

* * *

 **FIVE**

When Kate Beckett arrived outside her daughter's father's apartment that Friday afternoon she did so with a positive attitude. She and Johnny were going to have a good, uneventful interaction while swapping their child since, in her mind, there was no reason not to. They had arrived exactly on time, she had not forgotten any of the ridiculous items that Johnny requested she bring along with Abby. Plus, she had plans to go see a movie with some coworkers later that night, so she had every intention of getting in and out with no issues.

Kate's confidence in the exchange was further boosted when Jonny opened the door with a nonchalant, "Hey." She fought the urge to roll her eyes. He was so strange and predicting his moods was virtually impossible. One day he was seething with rage, the other he was practically comatose.

The moment the door was opened wide enough, Abby lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his hips. "I love you, Daddy."

Still appearing half-asleep, Johnny sloppily patted his daughter's head. "Oh, well, thanks kiddo; I love you too."

She tilted her head all the way back so she could look up into his face. "I think you're a real good Daddy, too."

That time, Kate pressed her lips together, refusing to let her face show any reactions. Oh yes, Johnny was a _wonderful_ father, wasn't he? In truth he wasn't terrible. He did seem genuinely interested in Abby for the most part, and often came up with interesting activities for the two of them during their weekends together. He also never shirked his responsibility and Kate could count on just one hand the times he'd canceled their time together. Unfortunately, despite his decent parenting, Johnny also happened to be a rather terrible person.

Johnny chuckled at his daughters words. "Thanks? What's going on with you?"

Abby's gaze darted to Kate's face before she said, "Nothing."

Kate immediately felt her face go hot. _Shit!_ What was Abby doing? She knew Johnny would pick up on the move and blame her for it. So much for an uneventful interaction! But what in the world could—

 _Shit_. Kate cursed internally and took half a step back from the door when Johnny's head lifted and he gazed at her with dark, infuriated eyes.

 _Oh, damn it Abby, what did you do_?

As much as Kate wanted to be furious with her daughter, she couldn't be. Abby had no idea that her father had violent tendencies—which was by design. Kate wanted to protect her daughter from such unsettling knowledge, particularly when she was still so young. Still, she could not for the life of her figure out what had sparked—oh. Oh, no.

When it hit her, she fought the urge to wince. The incident had been two days earlier but she was sure—convinced!—that Abby had been asleep. She had been speaking with her father on the phone when he inquired about taking Abby to see the Nutcracker, but ever since _the incident_ regarding the ballet a few years prior, Kate had been against the show. Her father didn't know the full details, only the basic fact that Johnny had ended up returning their daughter over four hours after he was supposed to. When Kate blamed her ex her father made a comment about attempting to go to court and rescind Johnny's visitation. After that Kate had said, "No, what's the point? Johnny may be a terrible person, but he's still Abby's father." The young girl must have overheard, though fortunately had not repeated the exact events or Kate would surely have a worse fate.

"Go say hi to Nonna, Abby—I'm going to talk to your mom for a second." His tone would have been cool-sounding to little ears, but Kate could hear the underlying vitriol and swallowed unconsciously.

Thought she knew it to be fruitless, she held up both hands flat in front of her as the man in front of her stepped out into the hall—into her space. "Johnny, I-"

Before she could get out another word, his right hand was around her throat—squeezing enough to be threatening, but still allowing air in. "What've you been saying about me Kate?"

"Nothing. I didn't-"

Johnny's hand squeezed a little tighter. "Trying to turn her against me like usual? After all the money I give you to take care of her. You ungrateful bitch!"

Choking slightly, she pleaded, "Johnny stop; I didn't-"

Throwing his bodyweight forward, his hand still gripping her throat, Kate was knocked off balance and stumbled backwards into the cinderblock wall in the apartment building hallway. Her head came in sharp contact with the wall and she winced, tears immediately forming at the corners of her eye. "What did you say?" he growled at her.

"I didn't say anything to her!"

Using his hand on her throat, he forced her head back into the wall so sharply that Kate saw stars float across her vision. "So you're calling our daughter a liar!?"

"No, no!" She choked out, blinking her eyes rapidly. "I… she must have heard me talking to my f-father on the ph-phone."

"Daddy!"

At the sound of his daughter's voice, Johnny slackened his grip on her throat and Kate took in a sharp breath, but her relief was premature, because the next second he lunged at her again, slamming her head back into the wall so hard that her knees buckled and she remained upright only because of his vice-grip on her throat. "You say one word about me again, bitch, and you'll wish you'd never been born."

With that, he released her and her body crumpled down on to the floor. Johnny turned back towards his apartment, went inside and slammed the door shut without ever looking back.

* * *

Sitting on the subway train headed back to Manhattan, Castle sat with his hands tucked between his knees, pleasant expression on his face as he observed those around him. He so rarely came to Brooklyn that this was a change in his usual pattern, though for the most part the people seemed the same, though perhaps less suit-wearing than the Manhattanites. He really had no purpose to be in Brooklyn, but that particular afternoon he'd taken Alexis to a friend's place where she would be spending the night. As he had nothing better to do, he really didn't mind the trip; it gave him more time to think about what new character he could write in place of Derrick Storm.

As passengers boarded at the final stop before the train crossed under the river, Castle observed a woman entering the train stumbling and knocking into another passenger. From the way she moved, he thought she may have been drunk, which while unusual four p.m. on a Friday afternoon would certainly not have been unheard of. As the train began to move, the woman gripped on to a central pole with what appeared to be her full strength, though she did slide down a few inches anyway.

Halfway between amused and concerned, Castle continued to watch the woman stumble around the car presumably looking for a seat until she turned to face him and he gasped, since much to his horror he recognized this woman. Considering who she was, he was immediately certain she was not, in fact, drunk, which meant something was very, very wrong.

"Kate? Hey, Kate—it's me." He walked up to her and put an arm around her back, which she immediately batted away, but she did not look at his face or even acknowledge his presence otherwise. More concerned, he followed her as she made her way towards the two-seater bench he had just vacated. "Kate—whoa!" He gripped her under the armpits as she nearly went head-first into the bench. Once he managed to get her seated, he brushed his fingertips under her chin trying to get her to look at him.

"Kate, can you hear me?"

"C-c-cas'l?" Her tone was slurred and her eyes unfocused, which confused him further.

"Kate, what's going on? Are you okay?"

"m fine…fine…"

But she clearly was anything but. Thinking back through his many years of research, he wondered what, other than alcohol or drugs, would disorient a person, and recalled that people suffering from diabetic emergencies could sometimes display similar symptoms. He did not know enough about Kate to know whether or not she was diabetic, so he began tugging at the sleeves of her coat to see if she wore a medical alert bracelet.

"Kate, are you a diabetic? Do you need insulin?"

"Wha…no. no!" She slapped away his hands and he pulled them back defensively as another concerning thought hit him. If Kate was on a train to Manhattan looking disoriented, where was her child?

"Where's Abby Kate? Was she with you today?"

"Abby?" She echoed the girl's name, her brow winkling. "Abbyzwith Jo-Johnny."

"Johnny? Is that her father?" the writer questioned. Kate nodded once. As the train began to slow again, Kate's body began to drift towards the right and, had Castle not caught onto her arm, she may have toppled out of her seat. Okay—she definitely needed medical attention, but what the hell had happened?

"Kate. Hey—Kate! Stay with me, Kate. What…" Castle's voice drifted off as he tried to make her look at him with his hand at the back of her head. His fingertips had come in contact with something sticky and, when he drew his hand back, he could see a crimson substance coating them. At least he'd discovered the source of her disorientation—not that he was any less alarmed.

"Did you hit your head Kate? Did you have an accident?" he asked.

"'m fine; 'm fine," she said, waving her hand casually in his direction.

"No, you are definitely not fine; I'm taking you to a hospital. C'mon." He boosted her to a standing position and half carried-half dragged her out of the train at the next stop before ascending to the street level and tracking down the nearest cab.

* * *

"Excuse me, sir?"

Castle nearly jumped out of his chair when the white-coat wearing man who barely looked out of his teens approached. "Yes—yes. How is she?"

"Are you family?"

"Distant cousin." He replied automatically as he'd been prepared with the lie since they arrived at the ER. The doctor seemed unconvinced so he added, "Sorry, but I'm all she's got right now."

The doctor nodded. "Well, Ms. Beckett has suffered a concussion, but the good news is her skull isn't fractured from that fall she took."

"Fall." He repeated a bit dumbly.

"She didn't tell you she tripped down the stairs?"

He shook his head. "No. No she was a bit disoriented by the time I got to her."

The doctor nodded. "That's common with concussions, but she's alert now—and very lucky."

"Can she go home?"

"That's the thing...she said she lives alone, but I don't feel comfortable discharging someone with-"

"No," Castle interrupted without second thought, "she can stay with me tonight. Just...just tell me what I need to do and I'll take care of her."

The doctor smiled. "Excellent. Follow me? I'll take you back to her and we'll get started on the discharge paperwork."

* * *

"There you go. Easy does it Kate."

"Castle stop." The detective snipped at her companion who was treating her as though she was a blown-glass ornament teetering on the edge of a high table. "I'm fine."

"You have a concussion; you're not fine."

Kate grunted in response, but otherwise allowed him to take the coat from around her shoulders and hang it on the clothes tree he stood beside. He was being entirely ridiculous. She had walked out of the hospital perfectly fine and walked from the cab into his building fine as well. She did not need to be supervised like she was a small child, but the writer had been insistent since not being alone was a condition of her release from the hospital. After several moments of arguing during which he tried to find out what really happened to her, Kate gave in to the throbbing in her skull and allowed Richard Castle to take her home to his apartment.

 _His apartment._

Coming to the realization that she was in the home of a wealthy celebrity for the very first time, Kate attempted to blink away the ache behind her eyes as she took in the space that was…impressive. The loft area was, of course, massive since it took up one half of the top two floors of the residential building, but yet still managed to feel homey. She imagined it also came with some great views and wonderful light from the massive windows—assuming it wasn't dark outside. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the large bookcase wall that was positively stuffed with various titles. Given that Castle was a writer, this was not at all surprising, but it certainly was a lot to take in.

"C'mon." The writer's beckoning pulled her from her observations and she dutifully followed him through the unfamiliar space.

A doorway just off the foyer led them into a bedroom with a king-sized bed centrally located on the opposite side of more bookshelf walls. The writer gestured sloppily towards a chair on the other side of the room as he reached for the pillows on the bed. "Go ahead and sit over there while I change the sheets and get you settled in."

She took a step in the direction he pointed but then stopped when the location of the bedroom processed in her mind. So centrally located, it had to be the master suite, which meant it was _his_ bedroom. She couldn't kick him out of his bedroom! Especially when she didn't even want to be there in the first place! "Oh Castle no I can just-"

"Kate; sit."

"But the couch will be-"

"First, I have two spare bedrooms so I'd never make you sleep on the couch, but this is the only room with an en suite bath so it makes the most sense. Really, I don't mind at all—especially since I'm supposed to be checking on you tonight. Sit." He repeated his earlier command while stripping off the duvet and linens as efficiently as he could.

Though she moved to the chair, she continued to protest. "You really don't have to do any of this. We're…strangers."

He looked at her as though she had described him as a little green man from Mars. "What? No we're not."

"Practically."

"Then we'll get to know each other better." He moved towards where she sat but turned to enter the alcove she assumed led to the bathroom he mentioned. A moment later he returned with a folded set of sheets in steel gray balanced on his flat palm. "Do you have any siblings?"

"No."

He smiled. "Me neither—something we have in common. What about-"

"Can we please not play twenty questions?" She interrupted, toeing off her shoes so she could pull her feet up into the chair. She skirted her fingertips over her forehand and said, "I have a horrendous headache."

"Fair enough. You should lie down while I make us dinner. What would you like?"

"Nothing."

He grunted as he tugged the fitted sheet down over the edge of the pillow-top mattress. "No sorry—you have to eat something; doctor's orders."

Kate groaned and skimmed her hands down over her belly as the mere thought of chewing made her stomach flip. "Castle honestly my stomach isn't great and-"

"So you need something bland, got it. Chicken and rice?"

She scrunched her nose. "I'm not a huge rice fan." Particularly not since she ate it rather constantly due to its affordability.

He lifted his head, considering a moment before making another suggestion. "I have bread—grilled chicken sandwich?"

Kate closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the chair. "Fine."

Castle quickly tossed the top sheet over the end of the bed and did the same with the duvet. Then, after changing the pillow cases as quickly as he could, he tossed them on the bed as well before turning to his guest with a wink. "I'll come get you when it's ready."

Once he was gone, Kate moved from the chair and flopped down onto the bed with a groan. Damn, her head hurt. Stupid Johnny. The bright side was that she would be fine by Sunday afternoon—perhaps only with a slight headache—so her daughter would remain none the wiser. Until then, she would recuperate as best she could and if she had to do some of that in the writer's bed, she supposed there would be worst places. At least it was very, very comfortable.

* * *

"So," Castle began after he deposited the last of their dinner plates into the dishwasher. He slipped his hands into his pockets as he approached the counter at which she sat. "Are you ready to tell me what really happened to your head?"

Though she had maintained the fact that she wasn't hungry, once she started eating the chicken sandwich he made for her, she actually finished it quite rapidly along with the chips and pickle he'd provided. Now that she was fed, he was hoping to get to the bottom of what really happened since to that point she had been tight-lipped.

Shrugging, she traced her fingertips down the glass of water in front of her. "I tripped and fell down the stairs."

He huffed out a breath, leaning his forearms against the counter. She looked up at him and he saw once again the spot across her throat that gave him pause the moment she walked out of the bedroom. He had never exactly believed the claim she made when he spoke to her in the hospital room, particularly since he found her in Brooklyn, but it wasn't implausible for her to have fallen down stairs and hit her head, so he gave her the benefit of the doubt. Then, he saw the shadows of bruises beginning to form and he knew his gut had been right all along.

"First, if you wanted me to believe you, you should have used a less cliché excuse. I can see the bruise on your neck. Funny how it looks exactly like-"

"Stop!" She snapped, pushing herself off the bar stool and walking back towards the kitchen. The writer quickly made his way around the island counter to follow her.

"If you're not safe, Kate-"

She continued on her trajectory, not looking back. "I'm not doing this with you."

"Hey." He reached out to touch her arm and get her to finish their conversation, but the moment he contacted the fabric of her shirt she whipped away as though he'd burned her with a hot iron.

"Don't touch me!"

Though slightly surprised by the viciousness in her voice, he quickly apologized. "I'm sorry. I just want to make sure that you and Abby-"

"Why?" She uttered out, slightly tearful. Shaking her head, she folded her arms tightly across her body. "Why do you care?"

"Why wouldn't I care?" he responded. In his mind, domestic violence was one of the worst crimes that could be committed. As far as he believed, no reason to strike a woman existed—presuming that woman was not actively trying to end his life. Men who beat their wives, girlfriends or children were disgusting cowards and he would have hated to see anyone in such a circumstance, but Kate? Kate and Abby? The mere thought made him sick and he was fully prepared to step in and not let her leave his apartment until they had a plan for all of them to be safe. "Kate, if you have a boyfriend who-"

"No. No boyfriend. Not anymore…."

The way her voice drifted off on the last word made the hair at the back of Castle's neck stand up. Somehow, all the pieces of the puzzle formed together in his mind at that moment. God—oh god!

"Abby's father? He did this to you?" When her only response was to evade his gaze, his stomach lurched. "And he has Abby now? Kate."

"Don't." She spat at him, a single tear dropping from her left eye. "Don't use that tone. You think I don't know that? You think I don't think that every god damn time I drop her off there? But...but he's never hurt her."

"Just you." The writer concluded, still feeling quite unsettled. He wiped his hand across his mouth before continuing. "It's why you divorced I'm assuming."

She shook her head and brushed away another escaping tear. "We were never married. I was...it was complicated."

He let out a mirthless laugh. "Yeah, I get that—I've been divorced twice."

For the first time since their discussion began, she looked him in the eye. "Twice?"

He hummed and slipped his hands into his jean pockets. "Alexis's mom, Meredith, left us when she was four."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. At the time it had been upsetting, but in hindsight it was the best thing for them. "Well, shit happens. Then I married my publisher, Gina, which was...really dumb. We divorced earlier this year but our marriage had been over...practically since it started."

"Oh."

He stepped forward, hoping that revealing some of his less than sunshine-and-rainbows past would encourage her to open up. "So what happened with Johnny? That's his name, right? You said it when I asked you where Abby was."

She shook her head and cleared her throat. "It doesn't matter."

He reached out to skim a gentle arm over her shoulder. "Kate—"

"Don't touch me!" She snapped, batting his hand away.

He took a step away from her, bending his elbows up at right angles making his arms look like goal posts. "Shit sorry –I'm honestly not trying to offend you I'm just a touchy-feely guy."

"'s fine." She mumbled before rubbing her hands over her face. "Look it's been a long day and my head hurts so I'm just gonna..."

He nodded. Though he desperately craved the full story, he couldn't imagine how uncomfortable her head must have been feeling, so he decided not to pry further. Still, there were some details that needed worked out before they retired for the evening. "Of course. Would you like a t-shirt to sleep in?"

Her expression softened. "That would be nice; thank you."

He bobbed his head and led the way into the bedroom where he retrieved a black t-shirt and a clean pair of boxer shorts for her. He tossed them both on the end of the bed and then stepped into the bathroom to make sure everything was sorted out for his guest. Emerging, he explained to her, "I set out a spare toothbrush for you along with a fresh washcloth and hand towel. They told me you're not supposed to shower so I didn't put out any bath towels."

"That's fine."

"I, ah, I'm supposed to keep checking on you to make sure you're not slipping into a coma or something and I'm going to assume you'd be uncomfortable with us sharing a bed."

She huffed. "Definitely."

He offered a half smile. "So I'll be out here on the couch if you need me."

"You don't have to."

"Kate; it's fine." He almost reached out to touch her arm, but realized at the last moment, so instead he backed his way towards the exit to avoid inadvertently touching her. "Have a good night and please don't hesitate to wake me if you need anything."

He'd been halfway into the living area when she called out his name and he turned back to her. She wore a very genuine expression as she nodded in his direction. "Thank you."

He smiled. "You're very welcome. Goodnight, Kate."

* * *

 **A/N:** As always thank you for taking the time to review - I'm glad everyone is enjoying this story!


	6. Chapter 6

**Trigger warning** : This chapter contains discussions of domestic abuse

* * *

 **SIX**

"Thought you'd sneak out, did you?"

Kate clutched her hand to her chest and practically levitated when the unexpected sound of the writer's voice hit her ears. She gasped out, "Jeez!" and muttered a stronger curse under her breath. She had barely tip-toed three steps out of his bedroom on the way towards the door when he stopped her by completely blocking her path. He stood before her in pajama pants, a t-shirt and hair indicative of a night with limited rest. Yet, somehow, oddly, it made him appear ruggedly handsome. Not that she cared about that; she simply wanted to leave.

"Sorry; didn't mean to scare you. How are you feeling?"

She sighed and shut her eyes, trying to return her heart rate to normal. "Head still hurts, but I think the nausea is gone." Really, her eight hours of sleep had done wonders. While her head still did not feel good, the level of throbbing certainly had been reduced and it also seemed to be her only remaining ailment. Kate was quite pleased with this as it showed she would be fine upon Abby's return. Unfortunately, she did still need to call in sick for her shift that afternoon; _that_ would certainly be a bad idea if for no other reason than it would slow her recovery.

The writer smiled. "Glad to hear it. Probably shouldn't have bacon for breakfast though, just in case. Eggs? Pancakes? Both?"

"Eggs and toast?"

"Coming up."

"You…You really don't have to." She called out after him as he made his way into the kitchen.

"I know, but I want to. C'mon; we'll talk as I cook."

"Perfect," she said in a tone that made it sound anything but.

He pulled the carton of eggs from the refrigerator and gave her a pointed look. "You act like you're not enjoying this."

She sighed as she slid into the same stool she'd sat at the night before. "I've had worst mornings," she told him with a small smile. Truthfully, she was more embarrassed over the whole ordeal than anything else. And mad at herself. God, how out of it had she been? Waking up in Richard Castle's bed—thank god he wasn't in it too! She did not believe she had any lapses in memory for she did remember their conversation the night before, but it was fuzzy—like she'd taken far too much cold medicine. Yet, somehow she had agreed to let the writer take care of her, which caused her to think that her brain really had been rattled.

Stupid Johnny.

"When do you pick up Abby?"

"Oh um." Kate skimmed her fingers over her brow as she watched the writer whisk eggs in a bowl before pouring them into a skillet. "I don't. Johnny'll drop her off tomorrow around five."

He huffed as he picked up a spatula. "You're probably not going to want to hear this but: I don't think you should be alone when he does that. I'd be happy to-"

"No; you've done enough." Way more than enough, actually.

"Kate-"

"Do you, um, have any coffee?" she asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

The writer laughed. "Do I have coffee? Pounds of it." He thumbed towards a cabinet just past the refrigerator. "There are several different blends; choose whichever you want. I drink all of it."

She nodded, slid off the stool, and walked over to where he'd gestured where she discovered a cornucopia of roasted beans. Figuring the least she could do was prepare the coffee since he was doing so much, she chose a dark roast and poured it into the machine on the counter just below the cabinet. Castle directed her to the mugs, and she retrieved two while waiting for the brew to finish.

After she handed him a full coffee mug, he thanked her and continued with, "I'm serious. You're welcome to stay here another night if you want and I'll happily be there at five tomorrow when Johnny drops Abby off."

"And what about your daughter?"

He shrugged off her question. "She can stay here. Or I can have my mother come over."

Kate opened her mouth to rebut when she realized she had yet to see the girl in the apartment during her visit. "Wh…where is she, by the way?"

"Dropped her at a friend's; supposed to go get her around lunch. That's why I was on the train in Brooklyn. Right place right time, I'd say."

Despite his smile, Kate turned away and attempted to drown herself in the coffee that was, as it happened, quite delicious. She was trying not to think about what would have happened if Rick hadn't found her on the train. She had only a vague memory of arriving at the hospital and since they didn't actually provide any treatment she would have been fine if she had just gone back to her apartment, though in her disoriented state she could have easily gotten off at a wrong stop and ended up somewhere else—at least until she regained her senses.

"Yes, and you were very helpful. I appreciate that but-"

"But you're a very independent woman who doesn't like leaning on others." He guessed as he plated their eggs and delivered them to the counter along with two slices of toast.

"Something like that." She mumbled, though he had pegged her quite well.

For several minutes they ate in silence until the writer posed his next question. "So how'd you meet Johnny?"

She dropped her fork to the counter, mildly annoyed. "You're not going to drop this until you know, are you?"

He merely shrugged and sipped his coffee. "Like a cat, my curiosity may one day be the death of me. Until then, humor me, please?"

She huffed. "He…he was my field training officer after I got out of the academy—one of them, anyway."

"And you started dating in secret?"

A mirthless laugh escaped her lips. "This isn't one of your books, Castle; the story isn't all that interesting. We had a tough day—traffic accident with fatalities—and just wanted to blow off steam. It just kind of…happened; was supposed to be a one time-thing."

"You got pregnant?"

She smirked. "Not then. That one-time thing kept happening for a few months."

He nodded and pushed away his now-empty plate. "Then what happened?"

She broke off a corner of her piece of toast and put it in her mouth, chewing it for far longer than she needed to as she considered how to answer. Part of her wanted to hop off the seat and go sprinting for the door, because sharing was not something that she did. She kept it all bottled inside so only she had to fight her demons, but sometimes that act became extremely exhausting. Castle was so kind and understanding—he had taken her into his home, no questions asked!—so perhaps he deserved to know a bit of her story.

"He wanted to get married, make a go of it; I didn't."

"Because he was abusive?"

She shook her head and wrapped her fingers around the coffee mug beside her. "No, he was…fine. I guess. I don't… I guess in hindsight he got angry pretty easy, but we didn't see much of each other. I was new to the force, always busy. He was only my training officer for about a month, and then I moved on in the rotation, we basically just had sex. We didn't _date_."

"Got it. So…when did this start? After Abby?"

She felt her stomach preemptively lurch at the prospect of confessing the dark secret that no other person knew. "No. I was five months pregnant the first time he hit me."

"Jesus," he breathed out.

She cleared her throat and pushed the mug away. "We were arguing about the baby's name, it escalated. I don't even really remember the events leading up I just remember the impact. Right here." She grazed her fingers over the apple of her left cheek. "And you know the worst part? He hit me so hard it threw me to the ground and it was like my life was suddenly in slow motion and my fall took minutes not a fraction of a second. Like I had all this time to think about where we were and how we got there and I thought...I hope he ends it. I hope if he's going to beat me, he beats me hard enough to give me a miscarriage because that would be the only way I could truly protect her."

She remembered that moment six and a half years later in a visceral way. She could still feel the crack of his knuckles against her cheekbone and the reverberation inside her sinuses, the impact of her shoulder and elbow on the hard kitchen floor, the taste of blood in her mouth. She remembered laying there, half stunned, bracing herself for the swift kick of his foot that never came, and thinking how I can I bring _her_ into this life; even if I get away she'll—we'll—never be safe.

"Kate."

At the rasp in his voice, she quirked her lips. "Terrible right? Mother of the year…"

He shook his head and heaved out a breath. "Given the circumstances I suppose I can understand-"

"No you can't." She snipped, sliding out of her stool. She folded her arms over her chest as she stood a few feet away from him, shaking her head in disgust. "How could you? It's the worst thought a mother could possibly have, but I don't...I don't feel that way now. I mean, Abby is everything—the best thing in my life."

Kate had never even conceptualized motherhood until she held a positive pregnancy test in her hand and the adjustment had been rough—very rough, but now she could not imagine her life without her little girl. Being a single parent was challenging—there was no doubt about that—but Abby made her smile every day—multiple times a day! She loved watching what an incredible, interesting little person she was becoming and would not have traded that for the world—even if it did mean an end to Johnny's abuse.

Looking back up at the man staring at her intently, Kate felt her face flush with embarrassment. "I—sorry I don't know why I'm even telling you all this." She had never meant to reveal as much as she had but somehow it all came spilling out with unanticipated ease.

"Oh it's because I have one of those 'tell me everything' faces." He explained with utmost casualty. "And I'm an exceedingly good listener. It's like a magic power I have."

She arched her eyebrow skeptically at him, and he laughed. Turning in his seat so that his clasped hands rested in his lap and he faced her he asked, "So what happened after he hit you the first time?"

"I ended things with him—obviously. He was kind of living at my place but I sent him packing despite many, many protests."

"You didn't press charges?"

She merely shrugged and turned her eyes to the floor, where she dragged her sock-covered toe across the grains of the hardwood floor. "He's a cop; I would have ended his career."

"Kate."

His warning tone made her stomach jump for the second time that morning. It was the same tone she would have used on a woman remaining in an abusive relationship who used the classic, "He hits me because I deserve it," excuse. _Open your eyes; he's the one at fault! You're enabling him to do this by staying with him! What's wrong with you?_

"I know; I know, but…" _You don't understand_ , she wanted to say. Back then she had been twenty-three years old. Her mother was dead; her father passed out drunk in whatever bar he'd dragged himself to that evening. She had student debt and not a whole lot of savings and was about to embark on one of the most expensive endeavors of her life. She felt trapped; without options.

"I... I was having a rough time and I thought without his child support, which I wouldn't get if he was unemployed, Abby and I would be worse off so...I don't know. I did what I thought was best at the time. The incidents were fairly limited—I know, I know; not an excuse," she added quickly when his eyes flared wide, "but it rarely got physical. Mostly he just slathered me in insults and went on his way."

"So what happened today?"

She turned away, not prepared to reveal that truth. "Today was different."

She heard him slide off the stool, but didn't turn around even as he spoke. "He gave you a concussion, Kate."

"I know."

"Kate…"

Sniffing back tears, she turned back around to see concern etched over his entire face. "Look, I get it. I see the judgement and I judge myself, but what choice do I have? Legally he has a right to her two weekends a month. He...he lives with his mom and she's extremely good with Abby. Really—she's a sweet lady. Her husband was the tyrant but he's dead. Killed in the line of duty two years ago."

"Family of cops?" he guessed.

She nodded. "Yeah. Johnny has two brothers that are cops: one here, one in Boston."

He sighed and ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw. "It's not that I don't understand at all—I do. I question the sanity of Alexis's mother daily and I hate when she has Alexis because I never know what horror show is going to unfold. Yet at the same time, I accept that she is Alexis's mother and she does have a right to see her. I suppose in that respect I'm just lucky that Meredith has limited interest."

She gave a small smile. "You are lucky."

They remained silent for a moment before he said, "For what it's worth: I'm very sorry this is happening to you."

She bobbed her head. "Thank you. And thanks again for breakfast. I'll just be-"

"Oh, uh, why don't you let me drive you home?"

Her brow wrinkled as though he'd suggested using a teleportation device. "I can take the subway."

He scrunched his nose. "But that's loud and crowded—it'll make your head hurt worse. C'mon; let me drive you."

She sighed, not in the mood to argue. "Okay, fine; whatever."

He smiled, clearly pleased with himself. "Great, just give me a few minutes and we'll be on our way."

* * *

"Can I make a confession?" Castle glanced over at the woman skimming her hand over the supple leather of the interior of his Mercedes just as they pulled up in front of the building she directed him to.

Kate glanced over to him. "I'm a cop not a priest."

He put the car in park and turned off the engine. "Not that kind of confession. Last week when you asked me why I ride the train I wasn't exactly truthful. I do ride it for research now and then, but I started riding that train every night just to see you. And Abby."

He had sat down with Alexis and discussed it not long after the subway car birthday party they threw for Abby. As he had been separated from her mother for quite some time, Alexis was used to him dating, and the older she got, the easier it was for them to have conversations about it that she understood. After the debacle that was his marriage to Gina, he'd kept his dating life fairly low-key, so embarking on a relationship with Kate would be his first serious one since the divorce, but that was okay; he definitely felt like it was the right time and with the right person.

At the same time, she would be the first woman he seriously dated who also had a child, so he definitely wanted to make sure that Alexis was on board and, fortunately, she was. Though she'd only been around them at the make-shift party, Alexis had heard many things about Kate and Abby though her father and expressed an interest in getting to know both women better, which to Castle was as close to an approval as he would get from his daughter. Judging by the expression on her face, he wasn't sure Kate felt the same.

She huffed out a breath, clearly a mix of embarrassed and annoyed. "Castle…"

He shifted in his seat so he could face her more directly. "I enjoy your company. That's not a crime is it, detective? So why don't we have that dinner for Abby's birthday that we never had."

She turned her gaze towards her lap and said softly, "I don't know if that's a good idea. This is…this is a busy time of year for me…"

He hummed; the holidays always were. "It is for everyone."

She lifted her gaze and shook her head, clearly trying to get him to rescind the invite, but he wasn't biting. "But, you've already done so much I don't-"

"Kate. It's a dinner for your daughter's birthday and nothing more. At least, not right now."

He held her gaze for nearly thirty seconds before she finally relented. He shoulders rounded and she nodded her head. "Yeah, okay, fine. Maybe sometime next week?"

Grinning with pride, he said, "Perfect! We're wide open so you choose."

She offered a small smile. "Thanks Castle."

"Of course. Do you want-"

He had barely extended his arm to her when she cut him off with a sharp, "No, don't!" just as she had in his apartment the night before. He snapped his arm back and leaned away from her, and his brow wrinkled in confusion as her horror seemed quite extreme. Presumably picking up on his concern, she softened her tone, "I mean—I'm sorry; I don't like being touched."

He nodded in acceptance that not everyone was as touchy-feely as he. "That's fine, not a problem. Just…have a good evening—try to relax and if you ever need anything—anything at all—just call."

With that, she thanked him once again, and slid out of the car. He waited until she'd entered the building before turning on the ending again and making his way back out into traffic, all the while hoping she called him sooner than later to schedule their dinner together; he couldn't wait.

* * *

 **A/n:** thank you all for being patient for the Kate/Johnny backstory - and for all your lovely reviews!


	7. Chapter 7

**Trigger warning:** This chapter contains descriptions of domestic violence, child abuse, and mentions rape. No assaults take place in the chapter

* * *

 **SEVEN**

Sitting in his office playing with the new Star Wars action figurines he received from his daughter for Christmas, Richard Castle grinned and made battle sounds as best he could—like any grown man would do. His daughter really did know him well. Then again, he would have been happy with almost anything she gave him.

All in all, their Christmas had been a successful and lucrative one. After going to see his mother's appearance in A Twisted Christmas Carol the night before (his least favorite of all her plays—which was truly saying something), he'd sent his daughter off to bed early, per tradition. Of course she hadn't believed the large, jolly man provided her gifts for several years, but Castle still liked to surprise her—and he wasn't going to wrap those new skis! A red bow was good enough.

That morning after his mother joined them they opened gifts and brunched. As Christmas was his favorite holiday, Castle thoroughly enjoyed every moment he shared with his family. They may not have been the most traditional bunch, but they had developed their own customs—things that he looked forward to each and every year; however, for the first time in quite some time, Castle didn't feel as joyous on Christmas day as he had previously. He simply couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing—and he knew exactly what that something was.

Ever since assisting Kate through her concussion, the young woman and her daughter had frequently entered his thoughts. Just a few days after the unsettling event, Castle finally wore Kate down and she and her daughter joined his family for dinner. Considering how much they were both laughing during the meal, he considered it a great success and, much to his excitement, they repeated it the following week.

In his gut he knew—he just knew—that Kate was someone special and that she and her daughter appeared in his life for a reason. A higher power was certainly at work, because he could very easily see himself falling for her; he already was. The fact that his daughter liked them and all four of them got on so well only fueled his feelings. Yet, at the same time, serious issues remained.

Kate's daughter's father—a man who still had a presence in their lives due to visitation rights—was violently abusive. As far as he understood it, the last time Kate and her ex had been a couple was six years earlier—before Abby's birth—but if he had given her a concussion as recently as just a few weeks earlier, clearly some level of abuse had continued during those six years and he was not sure to what extent—nor did he think she'd be very forthcoming about it.

Given what he now knew, Castle understood Kate's hesitation when it came to entering into another relationship. As a single parent himself, he understood that a friends-first approach was best, due to the necessity of building trust before allowing a new partner into his life and the life of his daughter, but in Kate's case that was even more important given the added element of abuse. He was perfectly accepting of taking things slow, so all of that was fine with him, but slow didn't mean not moving forward at all, which was why he continually tried to involve Kate and Abby into their lives.

With regards to Christmas, he must have extended at least half a dozen different invitations—to Kate only now that they were finally conversing over the phone so as not to prematurely excite Abby and trap the elder woman into doing something that made her uncomfortable. Each suggestion was politely dismissed and, ultimately, she explained that this year Abby would be spending all of Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with her father. Learning this, he invited her to his mother's play, which would not have been appropriate for someone Abby's age, but again she declined saying that she was on shift that night.

As he had never quite learned how to give up on something, Castle also invited the Beckett women over for dinner on Christmas evening or even the day after, but she again refused. Finally, when he brought up a meal on New Year's Eve-Eve, did she say, "Maybe; we'll have to see." He accepted this, but also felt sad they weren't joining him at all for his favorite holiday.

Just as he was picking up one of the figurines that had toppled to the floor, Castle's cell phone rang and he discovered, much to his delight, that Kate's name was on the Caller ID. Hoping she had changed her mind about a post-Christmas dinner, he answered cheerfully, though within half a second he discovered their conversation would not be a chipper one.

"Castle?"

Her voice was an indescribable mix of stress, devastation and fear, and had his heart rate spiking immediately. He sat upright in his chair with such force that another one of the figurines toppled to the floor, but he failed to notice. "Kate? What's going on?"

"I'm so sorry I know it's Christmas-"

"No, its fine—what do you need?" He was already out of his seat and making his way towards the other room, preparing to grab Alexis and their coats and be on their way in moments if necessary.

"Could, um, could Abby and I stay in your guest room tonight?" she asked, her voice cracking on a few of the words as though she were biting back tears.

His level of concern rising, he managed, "A-absolutely. C'mon over. Do—do you need me to come get you?"

"No...we'll see you shortly. Thank you." With that, she ended the call abruptly.

Looking up from her brand new book, Alexis gazed at him from the corner of the sofa. "Something wrong, Dad?"

"Ah…I don't know. Kate and Abby are coming over. She asked to use the guest room tonight. I…I think something's wrong."

Her brow furrowed. "Like what?"

"I…" He hesitated as he gazed into the ice-blue eyes of his daughter. Yes, most days she seemed to be well beyond her years insofar as maturity and particularly when it came to intelligence, but she was still a twelve-year-old girl—she was still _his_ twelve-year-old girl—and he would protect him from the more despicable sides of the world whenever possible.

"I'm not sure yet, Pumpkin."

"Well. I hope they're ok." Putting a bookmark in her novel, she placed the item on the coffee table and stood saying, "I'll go swap out the towels in the bathroom."

Castle thanked her as she left and skimmed his hand over his chin, horrible scenarios filling his mind. He knew he would not relax until Kate and Abby arrived and he determined just what was causing Kate to sound so upset.

* * *

Fifteen agonizing minutes later, Castle nearly jumped several feet in the air when the knock at his apartment door finally came. He rushed to the foyer, his sock-covered feet skidding on the polished wood floor, and whipped open the door, bracing himself to see Kate battered and bloody, but she was fine; just as beautiful as ever. "H-hi."

"Hi." She echoed. Then, leaning closer to him she rushed out, "I'm so sorry, but I don't have the money for a hotel and-"

"Kate." He cut off her rambling by raising his hand. "Don't even think about it; we're glad you're here."

He opened the door all the way to let the duo in, and saw that Kate lugged a large duffle bag over one shoulder and grasped Abby's hand firmly with her opposite hand. The little girl, who had yet to greet him without an enthusiastic grin, looked far gloomier than usual. She clutched a well-loved stuffed bunny rabbit in her free arm so tightly had the creature been alive it surely would have been deprived of oxygen. Determined to make her smile, the writer immediately dropped to his knee and reached out a hand to her. "Hey, Abs, how-"

"NO!" Kate almost yelled as she reached down and batted his hand away from her child. "Don't—don't."

Confused and highly concerned, Castle gazed between mother and daughter for several moments before exhaling, "Wha…" but Abby answered for her mother.

"I was a bad girl."

Her haunted, nearly invisible voice, felt like ice water pouring down Rick's spine. Good god! It wasn't Kate he should have been concerned about, but her daughter—the person she had promised her ex never attacked. Jesus. Now desperate to know what was going on, he pushed himself back into a standing position and gazed into the distraught woman's eyes. "Kate?"

Her bottom lip beginning to tremble, Kate shook her head. "Can we just get settled in? Please?"

He bobbed his head despite craving more information. "Of course. Alexis, will you please take Abby up to the guest room and show her where the bathroom is?"

"Sure." His child responded in her chipper tone before she appeared at his side and smiled down at the girl half her age. "C'mon Abs; let's go." Though clearly reluctant, Abby let go of her mother's hand and grasped on to Alexis's instead. Only once they were more than halfway up the stairs did Castle turn back to Kate and speak in a hushed tone.

"Did he? God, Kate." He breathed out as his stomach lurched into her throat when her lack of answer confirmed his suspicions. "I thought you said he wouldn't hurt her?"

"I was wrong," she whispered as a tear escaped her left eye.

God he wanted to touch her—pull her into a hug and promise everything would be okay and that he personally would make sure that Johnny never hurt either of them again if that's what it took—but he couldn't. Knowing she didn't want to be touched, he fought to keep his hands against his sides and merely sighed out her name. "Kate."

She sniffed and brushed away the escaped tear. "I can't. Not right now. I just want to get her a bath and get her in bed and-"

"Dad!"

Kate's plan was interrupted by a rather distraught call from Alexis, which had Castle's stomach flopping around again. Dear god—what had she discovered? A broken bone? Cuts and bruises? Something worse?

"Coming; we're coming!" He spun around and charged up the stairs with Kate close behind him. In the upstairs hall, he found Alexis crouched down beside Abby, clearly unsure of what to do, for the younger girls nose was spilling blood like a faucet tap that had been cranked on. Momentarily stunned from the crimson flowing down the girls face, onto her shirt, and even dripping on to the rug between her feet the writer remained frozen. Fortunately, Kate maintained her composure—or what little she had left.

"Oh shit! Abby!" She cursed and dropped her duffle bag, dropping down at her daughter's side and clamping her hand down over the child's nose.

"I'm sorry Mommy." The little girl uttered out, though her tone was muffled due to the hand attempting to stifle the flow of blood.

"No baby, it's not your fault." Looking back over her shoulder towards Castle, she asked, "Where's the bathroom?"

He jumped forward and pointed towards and open doorway just a few feet away. "Here; it's here." Kate nodded and hurried the child in the correct direction, which was difficult with her hand still clamped over her bleeding nose.

"I'm so sorry about the rug." She called out, once in the bathroom. "She just gets nosebleeds sometimes…they're usually not this bad…I'm so sorry."

Castle hurried over and switched on the light so she didn't have to. "Don't even worry about it; it's fine." Looking back down the hall, he instructed, "Alexis get their bag, please."

"On it."

Turning back to the mother-daughter duo, he saw Kate attempting to use Abby's shirt to sop up the blood, but directed her towards the towel hanging within reach, saying it didn't matter and she could use whatever she needed. She flashed him an appreciative glance before reaching for the towel.

"And, actually," he continued, "if you give me her shirt I'll throw it in the laundry to soak right now. We can probably get that blood off."

Kate was halfway through tugging the shirt up and over her child's head by the time the words left his mouth. He reached out to take it and only then saw the dark marks painting the flesh on Abby's back. Spreading across her right mid-back and moving down towards her hips were dark, vicious bruising and marks that made him instantly want to vomit. Jesus, what had that sick, horrible man done to her?

"Thank you." Kate's voice as she pressed the shirt into his open palm shocked him back to reality and he locked eyes with her momentarily, trying to get some semblance of understanding for why Abby had been brutalized, but before he could, Alexis returned with the bag and he quickly tried to turn her away before she caught a glimpse.

"C'mon, Alexis; let's give them some space."

Castle placed the duffle bag inside the bathroom and pulled the door most of the way closed before walking towards the stairs, his hand firmly on his daughter's shoulder.

"Dad." She began, halfway down the steps. "Abby's back-"

"I know." He interrupted as he shut his eyes, wishing she hadn't seen. "I saw."

"But what happened? Was she in an accident?"

He gazed down at her and shook his head. "I…I'm not sure, but I do know that her…that her father isn't the nicest person."

Alexis's eyes flared wide and she gazed back up the stairs, clearly horrified. "Oh…that's awful. Why would he do that?"

Using his free hand he snagged her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. Dropping a kiss onto the top of her head he sighed. "I don't know, Pumpkin; I don't know."

* * *

Descending the stairs of the loft, Kate spotted Rick seated at the edge of the kitchen island counter, presumably waiting for her to explain to him what the hell was going on, and the unpleasant sensation of guilt filled her stomach again. She skimmed one hand over her belly and winced at the tightness there. She hated that they were there; hated that she had, in effect, dragged him into this mess as well, but she also felt they had little choice. For her daughter's sake she knew they had to go someplace safe—someplace Johnny would never think to look for them—and that was why she'd called the writer.

Fortunately, her daughter seemed to be doing better—or, as better as she could be considering the trauma she'd been through. The warm bath had relaxed her and when Castle brought in the first aid kit she had requested, he'd made Abby smile while bandaging the cut on her foot—the cut that had started this whole ordeal. Not that it was Abby's fault; she was six and accidents happened. After he left, Kate gave her a dose of pain medication, tucked her in, and combed her hands through her hair until she was certain Abby was asleep. Though at that point she wished to sleep as well, she also knew Castle deserved an explanation as to why they'd turned up on his doorstep—on Christmas day, no less.

The twinkling lights on his expansive Christmas tree seemed to mock her as she descended the final step to the main living area. She had seen it in all its glory before—the last time she and Abby dinned at the Castle residence, approximately ten days earlier—but that night the tree served only as a reminder that yet another Christmas had been ruined for her—just when she was finally coming around to the holiday once more.

"Abby asleep?"

She gleaned over at Castle as he slid off the bar stool and approached, tumbler glass of amber liquid in his hand. "Yeah. Thank you for helping with the bandage…and for letting us stay here and…for basically everything else." Actually, just the words 'thank you' did not even seem close to being enough.

He bobbed his head. "Of course. Can I get you a drink?"

"No, thanks."

"You sure? Might help you relax a bit."

"My father's an alcoholic."

Castle cursed under his breath and quickly apologized, but she shook him off. "'s fine you didn't know."

"You wanna talk about it yet?"

Did she want to talk about it? No. She wanted to delete the event from her memory and never think about it again, but that wasn't possible—not for her or for her daughter. She imagined over the coming days and weeks they would revisit it again and again and again, but then hopefully once Johnny's sentence was delivered they could put it behind them and move on with their lives.

Nodding, Kate moved towards the siting area and took a seat at the corner of the couch. Castle trailed behind her, plucking a box of tissues off a side table and placing it on the cushion beside her, just within her reach. She thanked him before folding her hands together and placing them in her lap. "We, um… the police went to speak with Johnny, bring him in for questioning. They won't charge him with Abby's medical eval pending, but I had a feeling it would set him off and he'd come to my place and-"

"Of course," he said in an even tone. "You did the right thing coming here. Did Abby tell you what happened?"

She shrugged. "Not in so many words. When…when I went to pick her up at noon, Johnny said she cut her foot on broken glass, but it wasn't deep and she'd be fine. I was slightly concerned about it, but I could see she wasn't limping so I thought it wasn't really a big deal and, as you saw, the cut is rather small." She looked over at him, he nodded, and then she continued.

"Once we got down on the street I thought something was wrong. She was quiet; not at all excited to see what Santa had left her at our place. She just seemed…off, but I thought it was because of her foot, so I just kept us moving towards the subway. When we got to the platform the train was already there so I had to hurry her on. I grabbed her right arm and pulled her along, but she screamed out in pain. I asked her if it was her foot and she said no…"

Preemptively, Kate reached out for a tissue and began to twist it between her fingers. "See, Johnny's mother has all these beautiful, intricate, very old ornaments. They've got paintings of Christmas scenes and snow on them, they're sparkly and Abby has always loved them, but she's not supposed to touch them—or anything else on the tree."

"They're glass, I'm guessing." Rick chimed in, and Kate nodded.

"When she cried out and I asked her what was wrong she said she knocked an ornament off the tree and it broke and then she said…she said…" Kate paused to bite back her tears as best she could, "'I was a bad girl so Daddy punished me.' We…we were still on the train platform at that point so I took her off to the side of the stairwell, pulled up her shirt and—and oh, god, Rick, he must have beat her so h-hard." She sobbed out covering her face with a tissue.

How she hadn't vomited immediately in that moment, she wasn't sure. She imagined it was only her cop training that kept her from doing so, kept her mind moving forward and creating a plan instead of breaking down. Still, it was by far one of the worst moments of her life.

"Oh, Kate. I'm so sorry. I…I know you don't want to be touched, but I don't really know how to comfort you if…if I can't…"

She sniffed back tears, almost laughing at how awkward he sounded, but she only found it sweet. Moping beneath her nose with the tissue in her left hand, she reached out her right and placed it gently on his forearm. "It's okay; you can touch me. Thank you for checking first."

"Of course." He smiled, slid a little closer, and placed his arm tentatively around her shoulders. "Is this okay?" She nodded and picked up two more tissues. He rubbed the top of her shoulder in even strokes and asked, "So then what happened?"

"I took her to my precinct and they...they stripped her down and took pictures. It's Christmas so there weren't any social workers available, but since I'm a cop and she wasn't going home to the same environment in which she was hurt they said it was okay. I have to take her to the pediatrician tomorrow, make sure her ribs aren't broken and to officially document her injuries in order to charge Johnny. Then, we'll need to see the social worker and probably a family therapist…"

She mopped up more tears as she thought back to the moment not too many hours earlier when her coworkers watched her walk towards the elevator, her daughter's hand in hers. She knew many of the men and women in her building, at least by sight, but those outside of the homicide floor she was least familiar with. Knowing she was a cop too, they had all been very kind and professional, but she could see the judgement on their faces as she walked away and feared they thought her daughter should had been placed with social services instead. On some level, she didn't disagree.

"Okay—they said it was okay that I take her…how could it be okay, Rick? My little girl, my baby was—"

"I know." He breathed out, using his hand on her shoulder to tug her a bit closer. She gave in and fell against him, her shoulder bumping into his chest.

A tremor shot down her spine as the horrific prospects filtered through her mind. "What is this going to do to her? Her father...and he...it's bad enough it was just me, you know? But why would he hurt her?" As a parent, she would sooner die than cause her child harm. Abby was a very good girl and rarely got in trouble. Even still, Kate tried to only raise her voice to her when she was actively in danger, like if she tried to run across a street before traffic had stopped moving. She never would have hit her, not under any circumstances.

"Some men are just cruel; there's no reason to it. And, for what it's worth." He slid away enough so that he could look her in the eye. "It's not okay that it was just you."

Dropping another used tissue down into her lap, Kate leaned forward to rest her elbows on her thighs and rake her fingers back through her hair. "I think it _is_ me...I just attract this poison and I'm dragging Abby down with me."

He squeezed her shoulder. "Kate. That cannot possibly be true."

She pushed herself off the couch suddenly and all of her tissues cascaded to the floor, but Kate didn't notice, she was too disgusted with herself. "Of course it's true. How could it not be true?" she spat before she began listing off the horrors of her life. "My mother was murdered. My father an alcoholic, in and out of rehab again and again. The father of my child beat me, raped me, and now-"

"Whoa—what?" The writer interrupted her, slowly standing from the couch as well. From his expression, his mind was spinning with the information she had just unloaded on him, but one fact had clearly stopped him in his tracks. "He raped you?! And—and—how is this guy not in prison?!"

She shrugged and folded her arms over her chest. "I just wanted him to go away—why won't he just go away and leave us alone?"

When her tears returned, the writer swallowed hard and stepped forward, reaching out his arms for her. "My god, Kate."

She backed away from his touch, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I'm really fucked up and now I'm dragging you into this too."

"No, no don't be sorry for that."

"But I am." Moving past him, she stooped down to the floor to collect all of her tissues and stuffed them into her fist. Turning back towards him, she shook her head. "Look, I just...we'll only stay here a night and then we'll find-"

"No, please—please don't leave. At least not unless you're going to be safe somewhere else. Can...can you stay with family?"

She shrugged. "My father's all we have in the city and he's-"

"Alcoholic."

"No—yes. I mean, he's sober right now but...it's such a hard time of year for him and he relapsed recently I just can't stress him more." Her father knew very little about her violent interactions with Johnny. He knew that Johnny treated her cruelly insofar as the terrible things he said to her, but he was not aware of the vast majority of the physical violence between them and she feared that learning his granddaughter was injured at the hand of her father would send him spiraling back towards the bottle.

The writer took another step towards her. "Then please stay here. Kate...my god I don't know how you're doing all this without collapsing but it sounds to me like you need a break. Just...stay here and let me worry about things for a few days. We'll start with tomorrow. Do you want me to go with you to the pediatrician?"

"No, no—you have Alexis and-"

"My mother can help or I have babysitters; I don't mind."

His smile made her heart lurch, but his offer was still unnecessary. "No. We'll—we'll be fine."

"Okay, but if you change your mind….now, when's your next shift?"

"It…it's supposed to be tomorrow morning, but I left word with my CO that I couldn't make it. He's obviously not in because of the holiday."

"Sure."

"But after that I…I don't know." She felt her stomach roll over at the mere prospect of returning to work in the days following. "It's going to get really touchy."

"What is?"

"Pressing charges against a cop. It gets ugly—messy. Especially with me also being a cop. Domestic issues are the worst."

Setting his expression, he stared at her. "Please—if anyone gives you a hard time for pressing charges against the man who beat your daughter give them my number because I'd like to have a word or two with them."

His comment both made her want to smile and run away. She knew he meant well and that he was right; in a perfect would it would not be a problem, but the world in which they lived was not perfect. Far from it.

"Look I…I think I just need to go to sleep."

"Of course, Kate; we'll figure it out as we go." Stepping forward, he opened his arms to her. "Hug? Only if you want."

Part of her did want to accept his embrace, but she couldn't, not with all the tumultuous emotions roiling within her. "Not right now, but thank you. For listening. And for being kind."

He nodded. "Anytime, Kate; anytime."

* * *

 **A/N** as always, thank you so much for reading  & reviewing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Trigger warning:** This chapter contains discussion of domestic abuse  & sexual assault; no abuse or assault take place in the chapter

* * *

 **EIGHT**

The morning after Christmas, Castle awoke far earlier than he normally would on a day adjacent to a holiday. If not for his houseguests, he would have stayed in bed until Alexis descended to the kitchen for breakfast, but he did not want to make Kate or Abby feel uncomfortable or be an impolite host so he set his alarm for quarter to seven—a solid hour before he would have liked. When he made his out of the bedroom, still pulling on his robe and yawning, he saw that the young detective beat him to the kitchen anyway. Fortunately, she had also already made the coffee.

"Morning." Pointing to the coffee pot he asked, "Mind if I share?"

"Not at all; it is your coffee."

He hummed out a thank you before retrieving a mug and taking his first delightful sip. "Couldn't you sleep?"

"A little, but I kept waking up to check on Abby."

"And how is she?"

She shrugged. "Seems okay, I guess, but it's so hard to tell with her. Unfortunately she's just like me in that respect."

At the hint of smile on her face, Castle pressed for more information. "Yeah? How so?"

"Just…how she tries to tough it out. Like, this one time, apparently she'd had an ear ache for days that got worse to the point where her fever was so high she nearly passed out, but she never once told me her ear hurt. She likes to be strong, sometimes to her detriment, which is why I'm concerned about her ribs. Her breathing doesn't seem labored and she was able to sleep but… I'll be happier after the doctor confirms nothing is broken."

"I think we all will be." Castle pointed out. "Did you hear from the police about Johnny?"

A mirthless laugh escaped her lips. "No, but I did hear from Johnny. My phone was on silent, but apparently he called around one a.m." With a heavy exhale, she reached into her back jean pocket, retrieved her phone, placed it on the counter and pressed a few buttons until the voicemail began to play. It started with, "Listen you piece of shit," and went downhill from there.

After the message finished playing, Castle was a mixture of revolted and furious. "Well. Isn't he a peach?"

She put the phone back in her pocket. "Something like that..."

"You can play that for the cops, right? He threatened you—they can add it to his list of charges."

She shrugged and sipped her drink. "I can…but it's still charging a cop with a crime."

"Cops are not immune to the law. And if they are, I'm going to call the mayor right now. Seriously—I have his number." He added at her skeptical expression.

"I know, I know. We'll just…we'll have to see. Anyway, um, I have to go wake Abby; we have an early appointment at the pediatrician to start our day of fun." She commented with notable sarcasm.

"I can have breakfast ready for you guys for when you come back down. Does Abby like eggs and bacon? Or we have plenty of kids' cereal. I can also just give you PopTarts for the road."

She offered him a half smile. "Thanks, Castle, but we'll get something on the way."

"You're sure?"

She bobbed her head. "You've done enough."

As he watched her walk away, Castle still wasn't convinced that he had done enough, and would not be satisfied until they'd stayed several days in his home and he was able to provide them with meals, entertainment and, most importantly a safe, stress-free environment. Only then would he feel he'd begun to put a dent in making up for the horrors they'd faced.

* * *

"Mommy?"

Kate gazed down at her little girl as they made their way back out to the street from the Twelfth Precinct. "Yes, baby?"

"Do I have to talk to that lady again? She smelled funny."

Kate choked back a laugh as the pediatric therapist they had a forty minute discussion with had been a bit heavy handed with the perfume. "Well, I don't know, about that. Do you want to talk to a therapist again? Maybe not that lady, but another one?"

"Why would I?"

Kate pressed her lips together, trying to think of the best way to describe so that Abby understood. The therapist had pointed out the same thing that Kate picked up on as concerning: Abby seemed to think her punishment was justified since she did something bad by breaking the ornament. They were having trouble conveying to her that yes, she disobeyed something her Nonna asked her not to do, but the appropriate response would have been making her go to bed without watching a Christmas movie, or not allowing her any more Christmas cookies.

"Well, I think the therapist and I just want you to understand that your father shouldn't have hurt you the way he did. Do you understand that?"

"I guess so."

Sighing, Kate stopped walking, placed a hand on Abby's shoulder to stop her too, and knelt down in front of her, taking both of her hands. "Abby, sweetheart, please. You need to understand: your father should have never hurt you the way he did; that was very, very wrong of him."

The little girl considered this for a moment. "Does that mean he should say he's sorry?"

"Yes, he should say that he's sorry." _Assuming you ever see him again, which you hopefully never will_ , Kate added in her own mind.

"I'm sorry, Mommy."

Kate squeezed Abby's hands. "Why are you sorry, baby?"

"'cause I didn't know it was a bad thing or I would have called you. I'll call you next time."

Instead of answering, Kate merely kissed her daughter's knuckles and then brushed a hand through her hair to continue their path towards the subway. In her mind, there would most certainly be no "next time." The violent attack was enough to get any judge to revoke visitation rights—assuming Johnny didn't go direction to prison, which was still up in the air.

Earlier that day, after x-rays and a full examination which Kate could tell her daughter was not at all happy with, it was determined that none of Abby's ribs were broken or cracked; she was just extremely bruised. Of course Kate did not want her daughter to have any broken bones, so she was relieved, yet there was a tiny piece of her that was disappointed. Had Johnny broken a bone, that would have been a surefire nail in his coffin, but with just bruises, she feared he would have a lawyer or union rep throw his good service record into the mix thusly enabling him to avoid charges.

Still, Kate was prepared to fight. She would never again drop her daughter off at the Giannotti residence or allow Johnny to see their daughter unsupervised. He had proven time and time again that he was untrustworthy and this was the final straw. No matter what happened, she had to fight to put her daughter's safety first.

* * *

Kate sat on the couch in the Castle loft with her legs tucked underneath her clutching a mug of tea in her hand. She shouldn't have been upset, since all in all the day had been a good one. Despite the rough start with medical examinations and meeting with therapists, Abby seemed to enjoy the time she spent playing with Alexis's Barbie dolls and had an absolute blast watching Castle clown around while making dinner. Hearing her daughter laugh like that again so soon after the incident was something she didn't think was possible and she had him to thank for that.

Had those been the only events of the day, it would have been a good one, but after their meal she received a call informing her that, though the deal would not be formally in place until the following day, Johnny would not be facing any prison time for his attack of their daughter. Instead, he would be put on administrative leave while completing a mandatory six weeks of anger management counseling and family therapy. As family therapy strongly indicated that Abby and her father would jointly be involved, Kate immediately became upset. Castle was at her side in an instant, promising that everything would be fine; they would call his lawyer first thing in the morning and come up with a plan.

Despite his kindness, Kate only felt marginally better. While she was certain Castle's lawyer was a highly skilled one, she was afraid that Abby would end up in the same room as her father again—perhaps not alone, but with a therapist present, which was better, but less than ideal. Yet, during her career she had seen a lot of things happen with regards to domestic issues that did not make any sense or seem in the best interest of the children, and feared that would now be the case with her own life.

Half an hour after she sat down, Castle joined her on the couch, sitting on the cushion beside her, their elbows almost touching. Instinctually, Kate slid herself further away from him, but could not get as far away as she would have preferred since she was already sitting beside the arm rest. Fortunately, Castle picked up on her action so she didn't have to say anything.

"Sorry, did I sit too close?" He pressed his fists down into the cushion, clearly poised to move.

She shook her head and began to untuck her legs. "No its fine; I can just leave." It was, after all, his couch; he could sit where he pleased.

He stood quickly. "Kate, please. Let me move to the chair; its fine." After stepping over her leg that was bent towards the ground and then the corner of the coffee table, the writer settled down in the seat perpendicular to her.

Kate brought up her leg to tuck under her again and then leaned forward to deposit her empty mug on the table. "I'm sorry. I'm used to being alone after Abby goes to bed."

"I know the feeling, but it's my fault. I shouldn't have sat so close. I…I assume you don't like to be touched because...well, because of your assault. Sorry—writer's curiosity; it's my worst flaw."

Had her heart not already been so heavy, she might have chuckled at the rather impish expression he gave her. Considering all the "worst flaws" she could list about other men in her life, if the writer's worst one was curiosity it damn near made him a saint. "Um, yeah, mostly," she said in answer to his implied question. "I've never been much of a touchy-feely person when it came to strangers, but after that Abby's basically the only one I can stand touching me."

"How long?"

"Three years."

She watched a grimace skirt across his face and then he said, "Sorry I'll stop prying now."

She shrugged and tucked her hands into her lap. "No, it's…it's fine." Strangely, discussing what was arguably the worst moment of her entire life with Castle did not make her uncomfortable, though perhaps that was because after everything else that had happened over the prior forty-eight hours she was emotionally numb. In the three years since it happened, she had never spoke to it about anyone, fearful that if her CO got word, she would have been placed on temporary leave until a psych eval could be completed. Plus, she might have then felt trapped into revealing her attacker, which certainly would not have ended well.

Gazing over at the man looking at her with kindness and caring—two things Kate had not experienced in quite some time—she felt the story bubbling out of her throat, just aching to be told, even if it meant he looked at her the way she now saw herself: a victim that enabled her attacker to continue hurting both her and her child.

"For, ah, Abby's birthday Johnny promised he'd take her to The Nutcracker since she was really into ballerinas. Never thought he'd follow through on it but, yep, he, Nonna, and the whole crew got tickets. It was a Saturday matinee—one of my Saturdays, as it happened, but she was so excited I wasn't really mad. He was supposed to have her back by dinner, but then he texted and said she was really hungry and they were going to grab something—which was fine.

"They didn't roll in until about eight-thirty. I was...displeased," she said as an alternative to what she really felt: furious. Unfortunately, she knew all too well what showing anger towards Johnny resulted in and she had not been in the mood to explain away yet another black eye, so she'd let it slide. "Abby was half asleep and so I just wanted to get her teeth brushed and into bed. I didn't really notice Johnny was hanging around—not until I came out of the bedroom. I tried to ignore him, just cleaned up the kitchen as he told me how Abby has so much more fun with him and loves him more—all his usual commentary. And then he started with, 'You miss me, don't you Kate? I bet you lay in bed at night missing me.'"

She glanced up briefly to see the writer's body appeared braced for impact. Clearing her throat, she continued. "The problem with Johnny is that he's a cop so he knows exactly how to take down and immobilize someone."

"But you're a cop, too."

She nodded. "But I was trying to ignore him in the hope he'd get bored and go away. I was standing at the kitchen sink, but he was just so quick. He got my arm, twisted it around—I thought he was going to pop my shoulder right out of the socket."

She shut her eyes and could still vividly remember everything about that moment: the tension in her shoulder as she just waited to hear the gut-churning snap, the smell of the citrus dish soap in the air, his hot breath against her neck, and his fingers clawing at the waistband of her pajama pants. She shivered at the memory. "He said to me, 'If you scream, you'll wake her and then she'll find out what a whore you are.'"

"Jesus Kate..." The writer skimmed his hand over his mouth appearing nauseated.

Kate brushed away a tear that had fallen onto her right cheek and then tugged down the sleeves of her sweatshirt until they covered her hands. "I'm sorry."

Castle scooted to the edge of his seat, balancing his forearms on his knees. "No, no don't be sorry. He's the one that should be sorry. He's horrible."

She let out a mirthless laugh and brushed away more tears with her sweatshirt's cuffs. "He was so proud of himself for getting one over on me like that and I was so ashamed for letting him take me down. I should have been stronger. I should have fought him off. I feel like I'm one of those women that just make excuse after excuse and justification after justification. I know what he does is disgusting and horrible and if he was just a regular guy I would never have flinched about pressing charges against him again and again and again until he ended up in jail for good, but he's a cop and it wasn't just about the child support money. If it was just that I could have found a way but I was afraid of ruining my career and then where would we be? Abby and I... we could've move in with my dad, I guess, but he was barely on his feet, in debt because of his drinking, the shady loans he took out to cover his drinking expenses and at the time he was still trying to find work again after getting out of rehab…"

The tears steadily falling, Kate gave up trying to catch them and simply lowered her chin to her chest. The weeks immediately after the attack had been the darkest of her life. Getting up out of bed every day was a struggle and were it not for Abby—were it not for the need to care and provide for her daughter—she was sure she would have sunken into a depression. As it was, it took her months to feel normal again—to accept that this was her life and she had to do the best she was able to given the hand she was dealt. Though her father continually offered to help, and did watch Abby when he could, she couldn't lean on him for fear of sending him back to rehab, leaving her trapped in a situation that made her feel less than human.

Shaking her head bitterly, she sniffed back her tears. "God what you must think of me…"

Castle snagged a box of tissues from a nearby table and dropped them into her lap. "I think you're incredible and strong and that you'd do whatever you needed in order to protect your daughter even at great cost to yourself and that's extraordinary."

Though she wasn't sure she believed him, Kate met his eye as she continued to mop up beneath her nose with a tissue. "You're lucky—not having to worry about money when it comes to your kid. I didn't when I was younger and I took it for granted."

"It's actually the opposite for me. With Mother being an actress—when she had a job it was great, but when she was between shows...we had our fair share of rough times. I don't think we were ever in dire straits, but I also think she didn't let on as hard as it was, especially when I would have been around Abby's age so I get it; I really do."

She laced her fingers together and shifted her legs so she sat with them crossed. "I always thought money was going to be our worst problem. Guess that was pretty stupid huh?" She had a good paying job with good benefits and Johnny's contributions helped with Abby's expenses, so they should have been fine and would have been had she not had to pay for one of her father's rehab stays in addition to paying some of his rent and utility expenses in that time. Since then, her focus and worry had only been on money, since living paycheck-to-paycheck was an added stressor she never expected. In hindsight, she thought about how stupid that had been; she should have put more of her efforts into keeping her daughter safe from Johnny.

"No," the writer promised her. "Human. The things we have to tell ourselves to get through the day—there's no shame in that, but now you have a chance to make a change and I promise I'll help you however I can."

His steady gaze and gentle tone drew a few more tears from her eyes. "I think you're the nicest person I've ever met."

He looked half-stunned and laughed. "Oh no; that can't be true—besides, you haven't seen me play laser tag yet."

"Competitive?"

"I fight to the death, actually."

"I'm sure." Kate stood from the couch, intent on having herself a good cry in the bathroom and then going to bed, but she stopped as the man beside her slowly stood as well. Suddenly, she felt very cold—empty. Despite his protest, she did feel he was one of the kindest men she'd ever met. He offered help when none was asked for; he listened attentively and respected her wishes for a breadth of personal space. Maybe on the last point she had been too stringent for too long.

When he'd put his arm around her the night before Kate had not felt uncomfortable—the opposite, in fact. His arm had been sturdy and warm, the gentle touch of his fingers lessening the load on her soul. The fact of the matter was: she trusted him. Rick Castle was nothing like Johnny. He was the kind of man who would sooner die than raise a hand to her or her child. He was a good father and a generous friend. He had a big, warm heart that she probably didn't even deserve, but his smile made her feel good and safe and that was something she hadn't had in a long time.

"Hey Rick?" she began, her voice gravely from tears. "I think I'll take that hug now."

He grinned and opened his arms. "You got it."

She stepped forward and fell against him, her arms locking around his waist as his closed over her shoulders. She quickly found herself squeezing him even tighter, as being enclosed by his strong chest and arms made her feel safer than she had been in years. Sucking in a ragged breath, she breathed in the subtle remaining sent of his cologne and closed her eyes, letting herself melt against him.

Kate let Castle's hands skim against her back and shoulders for a full minute before she pulled back, tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, and gave him a rather embarrassed thank you.

He replied with an easy smile. "Always."

* * *

A/N: I really cannot begin to express how grateful i am for everyone's enthusiasm & encouragement with regards to this story. Thank you all so much


	9. Chapter 9

**NINE**

Sitting in his desk chair, Castle was supposed to be working on editing the chapters he had due at year's end, but he simply couldn't focus on them. Why would he want to think about murder, mayhem, and sentence structure when his mind's eye could be distracted with the beautiful smile of Kate Beckett? In his opinion, she was the perfect alternative.

That day was her first day back at work since Christmas and he knew she would be stressed, which was why he'd awoken extra early to enable him time to prepare her the perfect back-to-work breakfast. When he presented her with two pancakes decorated with faces made of fruit, a smile had blossomed across her face and his heart stuttered in a way that removed any uncertainty in his mind: he was falling in love with her.

Kate was an extraordinary person. She was strong, a dedicated mother, and on top of all that, protected the citizens of New York City by taking murderers off the street. Had she made some unfortunate decisions, perhaps ones he would not have made himself? Sure, but she was human, and he could not judge her because he was not certain how he would react in a similar state. The fact that she had suffered so much and come through the other side still able to get out of bed and take care of her child was amazing and only made his admiration swell.

For the prior few days they'd coexisted quite harmoniously in an admittedly unusual situation. Kate continued to insist that each night there would be their last, but he managed to get her to agree to another night each time by using his charm and bribing her with well-made food and fun activities for her daughter. Really, he just wanted to help them in any way he could since they both deserved a break, and with things still up in the air with regards to the "Johnny situation" it just made more sense for them to stay, especially now that his lawyer was involved.

If Castle had his way, Johnny would have been thrown into the deepest, darkest prison cell and the door would have been welded shut. Sadly, the legal system did not bend to his thought process so he was stuck watching and waiting along with Kate. He was, however, to provide private security for them when they returned to her apartment if it seemed as though Johnny was interested in retaliation over the affect her charges had on his career with the NYPD, which had yet to be determined.

Giving up on his editing for the moment, Castle moved from his desk into the main room of the apartment to check on Abby. He was taking care of both girls that day, though other than needing lunch and possibly a snack, Alexis was capable of entertaining herself. The six-year-old, however, still needed his attention. He'd suggested she read or play quietly while he worked, but that had been nearly an hour earlier, so he wanted to make sure she didn't need anything.

Instead of finding her on the floor with toys or lounging at an awkward angle on the couch with a book in her hand, he found Abby sitting centrally on the couch, her hands folded in her lap, her back straight as though she were attending a class at a European finishing school and not sitting on his well-loved sofa.

Confused and slightly concerned, Castle walked over and sat beside her. "Watcha doin' bud? Your ribs aren't bothering you, are they?"

"No."

"You don't want to play with those toys?" he asked, pointing to the pile on the rug by the piano. She merely shrugged and he considered the reasons as to why she might be behaving strangely. "Are you uncomfortable being here without your mom?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Then loosen up why dontcha?"

He grinned and nudged her arm, but she gazed at him rather doe-eyed and whispered, "I don't want to break anything."

Castle skimmed his hand over his mouth. No, she wouldn't, would she? Seeing as last time she had been exploring an unfamiliar area she had accidentally done exactly that and then…well, they didn't need to think about that. Instead, he needed to assure her his apartment was a mayhem-friendly zone and there was virtually nothing she could do to damage it.

"C'mere; check this out." He got up from the couch and approached the large Christmas tree. Turning around, he saw that Abby had followed, though hung a few feet back, so he reached out, pulled a red ball off the tree, and let it fall to the floor. The young girl shrieked and he dropped to one knee to capture the ball now rolling about.

"No, don't worry! See—they're plastic." He held the ball in his palm to show her it was undamaged.

Taking a tiny step closer, Abby ducked her head to examine the ball from another angle. "They don't break?"

"Nah. Some of these Santas are clay and they might, but that's okay. Nothing on here is very valuable and there is absolutely no glass."

"So no one hurts themselves?"

"Yeah—me." When the little girl looked surprised, he rested his forearm on his thigh as he continued. "I'm serious. The first year I had a tree of my own it was small, but I still wanted it to be pretty, so I bought a bunch of really pretty glass ornaments."

"Did you break one?"

"Ten of the twelve," he told her, groaning at the memory of nearly two decades earlier. "I dropped the box they were in when I was putting them away. Shortly thereafter I had Alexis and I didn't want a baby to accidentally hurt herself. Maybe in a year or two _I'll_ be old enough to be careful with the glass ones." Abby picked up on his joke and she smiled. Castle reached out and tapped her shoulder with his index finger. "Hey—there's that beautiful smile. C'mon, here—put it back for me."

Castle held out the red ball close enough for her to grab. She picked it up as though it were a fragile talisman, but then walked over to the tree, and hung it on one of the branches level to her face. She cradled her palms under it for several seconds, presumably checking to make sure it wouldn't fall, but when it remained seated on the branch, she stepped back and looked up at him. "Your tree is very pretty."

"Thanks I'm rather fond of it myself. So…do you want to play a game? I think I have some of Alexis's old ones stashed somewhere."

She shrugged and walked back to the couch. "You don't have to—I can just sit here."

Castle joined her again, determined not to let her sit quietly by herself for the entire day. That wouldn't have been fun for either of them! "What do you usually do on weekends?"

"This isn't a weekend."

He waved his hand flippantly. "Break from school—same thing."

She swung her legs, bumping her heels against the front of the couch. "Um…Mommy and I do something…or I'm at the babysitter…or I watch Nonna's stories with her."

As I was snowing outside, he didn't particularly want to leave the house, plus wasn't sure what kind of warm gear she possessed, and he only wanted TV to be used as a last resort—or something to entertain the girls while he was making a meal. "How about we try and find a game and if you don't like it we don't have to play it. How does that sound?"

She shrugged. "Okay."

Castle smiled, took her hand, and led her to the office where there were cabinets stacked with all the games he and Alexis had played when she was younger. He was certain she'd find something to enjoy in among them, and if not he'd make up a game for her himself. There was no way she wouldn't think of him as the fun babysitter by the end of the day—he was sure of it.

* * *

Walking into the Castle's apartment, Kate felt ready to collapse on the floor in a pile of arms, legs, and high-heels. Her day had been unexpectedly grueling, particularly after she nearly rolled her ankle while chasing down a perp and tripping over a street grate. Fortunately, she had made the arrest and taken another killer of the streets—which was the one highlight. The subsequent extra hour of paperwork was definitely not, but at least she'd made it home in time to put Abby to bed.

Shrugging off her coat, Kate tossed it onto the hanger by the door and then stepped out of her heels. She took two steps towards the living area but then froze when she saw what was before her. Castle sat centrally on the couch watching the TV with very low volume. Beside him, tucked into a little ball, was Abby. Her head used Castle's thigh as a pillow and she was covered in a red knit blanket, sound asleep.

She took a moment to take in the sight, which, while adorable, reminded her of the conversation she needed to have with the writer later that evening. Their time at the Castle residence was coming to a close and that did not come without a small amount of sadness. Though she never would have realized on her own, Kate really had been exhausted and in need of a break. Living at Rick's for almost a week had meant never needing to prepare a meal or worry about having to pick up Abby timely. Of course the last thing she wanted was to seem an ungrateful guest or like she was mooching off his generosity, but Castle simply would not let her help since he said it was her time off.

In a way, going to the Castle residence had been the best thing for them. Not only did it allow the two of them to become closer, but it allowed her daughter to see that not all families were as broken as hers and there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Castle was a fun, engaging, delightful if not a mildly insane at times parent. As if his charming daughter was not enough proof of his parental skills, Kate loved watching him with Abby, seeing the light in her that he brought out. Sadly, though, he was not her parent and it was time Kate drew the line in the sand.

"Hey."

"Oh hey." Castle whispered as he smiled over at her. He turned off the TV and gestured to the girl beside him. "She tried to stay awake."

"Sorry I was late; paperwork..."

"Don't worry about it. Want me to help you carry her up? I already made her brush her teeth."

Kate nodded. "I got it; thanks." She walked over to the sofa, pulled the blanket off her sleeping child, and scooped her up into her arms, pulling her body tight to her chest. The larger Abby grew, it became harder and harder for Kate to cart her around, especially when she was sleeping and nearly dead weight. She was used to carrying her from the couch to bed in their small apartment, but in Castle's expansive place? She had to rest halfway up the stairs and the remainder of the trek was quite a struggle.

After tucking Abby in, Kate returned to the first floor. She found Castle in the kitchen, pulling plates of leftovers out of the fridge. "Hungry?"

She settled her hands on her belly. It was rather empty despite the bag of chips and candy bar she'd eaten at her desk. "I don't know…"

"Mini meat loaves and veggies. C'mon." He enticed her with a grin and she ultimately gave in, letting him warm her up a small plate, which was just as delicious as all the other foods he made.

"Forget mystery novels," she said as she ate, "you should write a cookbook."

Castle laughed loudly. "I don't know about that. For me, learning to cook was about self-preservation. If I didn't learn to make the meals, Mother would have poisoned me long ago."

After she finished her plate, Kate deposited it into the dishwasher and then turned to the man hovering by the kitchen island watching her with adoration. Her heart began to race as she stepped up to him. She really did not want to have this conversation, but it was, unfortunately, a necessity. "I cannot even begin to thank you for what you've done for us the past week."

He stood up a bit straighter as he looked at her. "Why do I sense a 'but' coming?"

"I...I know that you're a good father—an amazing one because Alexis is incredible, but... I have to do whatever I can to remove my daughter's father from her life for her own safety. Given everything that's happened, I think she's going to try and cling on to a male figure and I'm concerned that...well that she's going to become too attached to you. She already is."

Castle's gaze was soft and steady as he promised, "I care about her—and you."

Kate's heart broke a little at his words. "That's very kind. You're such a sweet man, Rick, but I can't...I can't do this."

"What's this?"

"I...I don't know." She shrugged and flopped her arms down at her sides. God, she was so desperately bad at this. She had never been particularly good at relationships or dealing with her feelings after her mother's death, and then adding Johnny into the mix had made her hundreds of times worse. "I don't know what you're looking for or if you're interested in-"

"I'm incredibly interested." He stepped forward and leaned in towards her. "You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met."

Her cheeks felt like fire as she shook her head and dropped her gaze towards the countertop. "I doubt that, but the thing is...as much as I might like you I can't be involved with any men. Too much has happened and I just...can't. I'm sorry."

Maybe if her mother hadn't died. Maybe if her father hadn't promised again and again to stay sober only to wind up being arrested of public intoxication— _again_. Maybe if Johnny hadn't…been Johnny. Maybe then her heart wouldn't have felt like it was stuck together by safety pins and duct tape. She could see herself falling for him so easily because of how amazing he was. Hell, in some ways she'd already begun to tumble, but she wasn't sure if she could survive another heartbreak, especially not then as she was entrenched with cleaning up Johnny's mess.

"Kate—may I?" He held out his hand and hovered it beside her arm, requesting permission to touch. She bobbed her head and his palm skimmed down her bicep until his fingers closed around her elbow. "I completely understand that you've had some truly terrible things happen so forgive me but—do you really intend to spend the rest of your life alone? Is that what you want for yourself? For Abby?"

Of course the answer was no, but she honestly wasn't sure how she would move from the place she was then to a happily ever after. It felt like crossing the Atlantic with only a kayak and a weathered pine board to use as a paddle. "I don't know, Rick; I really don't. I've been burned so many times…"

He placed a hand on her other arm so he could hold her in place just a foot away from him. "Kate—I swear to you I would never hurt you. Not like Johnny does. Not like anyone has."

He sounded as though he was begging her to believe him and she wanted to. Of course she trusted that he wouldn't strike her or assault her in another way—he simply wasn't the type—but what if they were together for a while and he found someone else? Someone who didn't have intimacy issues, baggage, or a small child? Plus they hadn't yet known each other two months! "I…I don't think we know each other well enough for you to promise that."

"So let's change that. Let's get to know each other better."

She slid away from his grasp, shaking her head as all the complexities of being in a relationship filtered through her mind. "The thing is—if I was going to date you I would do so without letting Abby meet you for a while—a long while, because I wouldn't want her to get attached. She's had enough hurt in her life."

He nodded. "Hey, I get that. Remember—I'm a single parent, too. I was the same way after Meredith left; Alexis was almost exactly Abby's age when I started dating again. But I still found a way and so can we. Please?"

As his hand skimmed over hear back a sob bubbled up from her diaphragm and she covered her face with her hands. She wanted to scream out to him, ask why he was being so nice to her when she didn't deserve it, but felt too strangled by her emotions to do so. The thought of dating him—adding him to the mix of work, Abby, and all her usual household chores—felt overwhelming. She didn't want to remove him completely from her life. That would have been far too sad, plus he was kind enough to provide the lawyer she was using to fight Johnny's custody agreement, but dating was a whole other commitment. "God Rick…I don't even have time to breathe—I have no idea how I'd date you. Or if I'm even ready for that."

"Non-date dates. Friend-dates?"

She lowered her hands and turned to see that he was grinning at her, ever hopeful, ever persistent. She wanted to kiss him, which was an emotion that terrified her, because she hadn't wanted to kiss anyone in years. "I…maybe."

"We can work something out. If you want to?"

A small laugh escaped her lips. "You're not going to let me say no."

"Nope."

When he grinned at her she fell forward against his chest and wrapped her arms around him. Perhaps he was the exact thing she never realized she needed: someone to give her a push, someone to give her a challenge. He refused to accept no as an answer and wouldn't let her walk away, because he knew just as she did deep down: it was far better for both of them if she stayed; if she gave them a chance.

Taking in a deep breath, she let out a slow exhale as she sunk her body further into his. "Okay."


	10. Chapter 10

**TEN**

Butterflies churning in her stomach, Kate opened the door to her apartment to reveal a grinning writer holding a medium-sized, white pastry bag. At his dopy expression, she let out a breathy half-laugh, but that did not assuage the nerves bubbling within her. That evening was meant to be their first "friend-date" and though by definition it was not an official date, as it was as close to a date as she'd had in quite some time, her uncertainty was at maximum level.

Ten days had passed since she and Abby returned to their apartment after spending five nights in the Castle loft. Though she (and from the sound of it, Castle, too) had been nervous about facing retribution from Johnny, he was dedicating himself to his mandated anger management counseling so as not to lose his job at the NYPD and thus had not contacted Kate directly since his initial phone call.

Once she accepted the fact that they were—at least for the time being—safe, Kate relaxed back into her regular routine with one addition: daily calls with Richard Castle. Sometimes, particularly if she had a late shift, they only spoke for five or ten minutes. Other calls lasted for well over an hour, after both their daughters were asleep. Their conversations weren't always deeply emotional or intimate, but the fact that he was becoming a steadier presence in her life relaxed her…at least until he suggested they officially pick a time for their first friend-date and she began panicking. Presumably sensing her hesitation, he bribed her with a delicious chocolate dessert, to which she agreed, but still: the simple fact that he was in her apartment made her slightly nervous.

As a woman with past that included both domestic abuse and sexual assault, Kate never liked strange men in her space—particularly not in her apartment. Of course, Castle could not be classified as a "strange man" and her concern with regards to him was different. She never once thought that he would attack her or force her into doing something with which she was uncomfortable. However, having him in her home made her feel exposed. He would learn more about her than before and there was always the chance he would not like what he saw.

"Hey, um, thanks for coming."

"Thanks for inviting me," he responded as he ducked inside the apartment.

She led the way into the kitchen, which was located right beside the entryway, and gestured for him to put the bakery bag down on the counter. He did so and then began shrugging off his coat while she said, "I hope it's not too late."

"I'd hang out with you at any time of the day, Kate Beckett," he told her with a wink. Then, stepping back out into the entry hall he gazed out towards the main living space and said, "So…this is your place?"

"Oh. Yeah. It's, ah…incredibly uninteresting compared to yours."

He turned back to her with a smile. "Not at all. Tour?"

She gave a little shrug and stepped around him to lead the way out into the main apartment area. So much for a tour—they could more or less see everything by standing on that exact spot. "No tour needed—you just saw the kitchen, this is the living area and over there is a little bathroom and bedroom," she said, pointing to the wall opposite them. "And I can't show you that because Abby's asleep."

She watched as the writer gazed around, taking in her bookshelves, sofa, small television, and the table shoved up against one wall that served as both a place to eat and her make-shift desk. "You…you and Abby share a bedroom?"

Kate felt her cheeks flush once more. Ah—the first potential fact of her life that could send him running the opposite direction. "Yeah. It's kind of weird, I know."

He shrugged. "No, it's fine; just unusual I suppose."

She slid her hands down into the pockets of her jeans as she shifted her weight side to side. "This is the apartment that I got when I graduated the academy and after I got pregnant I always intended to move, but something would happen like my father going into rehab, Johnny assaulting me, or…the list goes on. I've looked at plenty of places, but you know Manhattan real estate—they're either too expensive or too far away or too filled with roaches."

"Right."

She gazed around at the place that truly felt like home after nearly eight years. "I like this little place. Really good location, rent's really reasonable…but I know we both need our own rooms. Maybe this summer or fall. We'll see."

Nodding to her, he moved further into the living area, stopping in front of one of her three bookshelves. She didn't think much of it until he plucked a title from the shelf and turned to face her, holding it up at shoulder level. "Want me to sign one?" Of course Richard Castle would walk directly to the one bookcase in her apartment that held every book of his that she owned.

A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she walked over to pull _Flowers for your Grave_ off the shelf; she really was not going to survive the night without complete embarrassment—not that the writer was intending to embarrass her, of course. He just happened to be quite good at discovering the things that made her cheeks flush. "Ah…you already have." She flipped open the cover for the novel and showed him his signature.

Castle took the book he held and tucked it under one arm before reaching out for the signed copy and looking down at it, slightly amazed. Looking back up to her, he asked, "When?"

"Seven-ish years ago; before Abby."

He brushed his thumb across the signature before handing the book back to her. "Glad to know you really are a fan."

She replaced both books on the shelves and gave him a tiny shrug. Too embarrassed to say anything else she instead changed the subject. "So, um, how about that dessert?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, after sharing a decedent chocolate lava cake, they sat on the couch in her apartment talking softly, when the issue of her limited finances ultimately came up. To his credit, the writer was not being judgmental in the least; he'd merely said something without realizing how strapped for cash they'd been for the prior few years and so she had to explain accordingly.

"May I ask how many times your father has been in rehab?"

She took a small sip for her water glass before replacing it on the end table. "Three. He tried really, really hard to commit after Abby was born but… I don't know. He just triggers and backslides so easily."

The four years between her mother's death and her pregnancy had been filled with a series of small highs and much lower lows with regards to her father. His drinking had started almost right away, but when she'd transferred back to a school in the city to be closer to him, he did better for a little while, but then they had to clean out her mother's clothing and other belongings, and he backslid. So on went the pattern for years: he'd sober up for a few months, start drinking again, get thrown out of a bar, sober up for a few weeks and start all over. When she told him about her pregnancy, he had entered rehab and made such a promise for commitment, Kate's naivety took over and she believed he would stay out of the bottle for good; unfortunately, that was not the case.

"I remember you said your mom was murdered…"

She dipped her gaze to her lap. "Yeah…when I was nineteen."

"The original trigger, I'm assuming?"

"Uh-huh. He's never been good at managing stress. My mom was always the one to talk him down but then she was gone, I was at school… his first time in rehab was when I told him I was pregnant. He did really, really well for about two years. I thought he'd finally kicked it but…then Johnny showed up when he was here, blasting me for…I don't even know. He didn't hit me, just verbal abuse. Dad didn't know about any of it, so I had to tell him…"

"And he fell off the wagon," the writer deduced.

"Yep."

* * *

Castle sighed as he gazed over at the woman far stronger than he realized now that he had learned more of her story. Not only had she suffered through a relentlessly abusive ex, but she'd had to navigate the emotional strain of having an alcoholic parent as well. Kate truly was extraordinary.

Sitting there, watching her with her hands tucked tightly between her knees, he finally felt as though he understand the majority of the sadness he'd seen behind her eyes when they first met on the subway. Now that they'd been spending time together, he could see a light beginning to shine through, and he liked to think that had to do with him—at least in part—but now that he truly knew he could help her find her way to the other side, and that started with making sure she understood she was not to blame.

"May I?" he asked, hovering his hand above her knee until she nodded in approval. His palm landed on her patella and he splayed his fingers down the top of her shin, giving it a gentle rub. "It's not your fault, you know—your father."

She bobbed her head. "I know. Took me a long time to accept that, but I know. I can't control other people's actions or their responses to situations. He has a disease and he needs to be strong enough to fight it."

Giving her knee a little squeeze he said, "I'm sorry. That must be very hard to watch."

"It is. He's been sober about, ah, nine months now, which is why didn't want him to know about all this Abby stuff."

The writer's brow wrinkled. "You didn't tell him any of it?"

"Ah, not exactly. I got out of Christmas by telling him Abby was really sick. Then when we went to see him on New Year's Day I told him that Johnny had spanked Abby for braking and ornament and come after me verbally and that I'd had enough and I was working to get his custody revoked."

"And what did he say?"

"'Finally.'"

"Can't say I disagree. Kate." He had also never been happier for insisting that she and Abby stay with him as long as they did. Without her father even knowing about the situation, she truly would have been alone, and that would have been horrible for her; an unnecessarily burden. Now, they were in this together.

Through his lawyer they were put in contact with another at the same firm—one who specialist in family and domestic issues instead of legal contracts for the publishing industry. The lawyer had come to the loft and he'd sat in the office as he and Kate discussed the situation regarding Johnny and she briefed him on his history of abuse, though notably left out the sexual assault incident. The lawyer promised he would do all that he could, but in the end, since Kate could provide no photographic evidence of violence against herself, the court had awarded weekly supervised visits to Johnny—at least while he was going through his anger management training; then the situation would be reevaluated.

Patting her knee he said, "I know those supervised visits weren't the outcome you wanted, but it's not over yet, and at least for the time being he can't hurt her."

She nodded "I know that. I'm just afraid he'll…he'll find a way to punish her for it somehow. He should be punishing me…"

"Hey," he said, calling her to look at him. When she did, he gazed at her very seriously. "He shouldn't be punishing anyone. His actions caused this and he needs to own up to them."

A mirthless laugh escaped her lips. "You clearly haven't met him."

 _Thank god_ , he added inside his own mind. He knew that if he came face to face with Johnny after knowing all the horrid things Kate told him about, he might not have been able to keep himself in check and might have felt the urge to lash out and punch the moron squarely in his face. If he were to do that, he knew there would be only two outcomes: one, he would be arrested for assaulting a police officer, or, two, Johnny, the more trained fighter of the two, would pummel him into the ground. As he wished for neither incident to occur, he felt it best to keep himself away from Kate's ex for the time being, and be there for her in other ways.

"Kate, you know if you ever-"

Her hand landed atop his and she gave it a squeeze. "I know…and I'm very glad I have you to talk to and hug every once in a while."

"I'll hug you any time you want." He assured her. Then, he pulled his hand off her knee and opened his arms wide in demonstration of this.

She chuckled, gave him a brief squeeze, and then slid back to her half of the sofa with a warning glance. "Baby steps, Castle."

"Of course; I'm not in any rush. Let's talk about something better okay? This Saturday is supposed to be shockingly warm–should we do something with the girls? You're not working are you?" He'd been thinking about it after hearing a radio personality mention the phrase "unseasonably warm" during a cab ride the prior day. He knew and appreciated the fact that they were getting to know each other slowly so as to solidify their relationship more before either of their daughter's became too attached to someone who might ultimately leave their life once more, but that didn't mean they could _never_ get together as a group, especially for a fun, no-pressure afternoon.

"No, but…" Her eyes drifted momentarily towards the closed bedroom door and then she looked back at the writer. "I'm not sure."

He thought a moment before coming up with a new idea. "Why don't you take Alexis and Abby and have a girls' day? Walk around, window shop, get some lunch—on me, of course."

"Um…"

"Only if you want," he added quickly in case his suggestion made her feel uncomfortable.

She shook her head. "No, no that sounds nice, but only if it's okay with Alexis."

He smiled as he was certain his daughter would agree. "I'll check and let you know."

* * *

"Thanks for letting me to come with you, Kate," Alexis said once Kate had returned her to the loft apartment and Abby had asked to go upstairs and say hello to Hamlet, the gerbil.

Kate shrugged and said, "Of course." She had initially been concerned about how the girl would feel about spending a few hours with her and wondered if her father had enticed her to agree, but after their afternoon she didn't think that was the case. Alexis seemed genuinely relaxed around her, and she and Abby got along well. True, they'd had a few moments of awkward silence as the afternoon began, but once the conversation was flowing they were fine.

"I think as long as your dad and I are getting to know each other, you and I should too, right? I don't want you to think I'm just barging into your life…"

Alexis shook her head. "No—no I don't. I like getting to know you and Abby. And I like seeing my Dad so happy."

Feeling her cheeks flush, Kate stammered, "O-Oh, well…"

"And I'm glad we were able to help you."

Kate's embarrassment quickly morphed into guilt. The last thing she wanted was the girl thinking her relationship with the writer was a one-sided one. "I-I don't want you to think we're taking advantage of his-"

"Oh, no." Alexis reached out and touched her arm gently, an expression of wisdom well beyond her years on her face. "I know what that looks like; it's not this. Thanks again!"

Kate considered the girl's statement as she walked towards the stairs, wondering just how many women had chummed up to rich, famous author Richard Castle, intent on being wined and dined and perhaps getting a nice piece of jewelry out of the deal, before moving on to the next millionaire. Such thoughts had never even entered her mind. Not only was she not a materialistic person, but she would have felt endlessly guilty behaving that way.

All she really wanted was a friend and partner. Someone she could trust, someone she could depend on. Richard Castle was that man, she was certain of it, but she had no intention of their relationship being one sided. Yes, she was the "needier" of the two in that moment given her situation, but sooner than later (she hoped) the Johnny mess would blow over and they could become a normal couple. In time, Castle would presumably need to use her as a sounding board or for help with something and she could not wait to return the favor of being the best support system she could have imagined; she only hoped she could live up to the high bar he set.

* * *

 **A/N: as always, thank you all so much for your kind reviews**


	11. Chapter 11

**ELEVEN**

"Well hello beautiful ladies!"

Kate could not help but laugh as she opened her apartment door and let the over-enthusiastic writer inside. He opened his arms and ran into the main room to give Abby a big hug as though they hadn't seen each other in years, but really it had only been a little more than two weeks.

"Rick!" She squealed, jumping up into his embrace.

"Hey Abs." He held her at his hip and pressed a kiss onto her cheek. "Did ya miss me?"

She nodded, looping her arms around his neck, "Yes! Mommy did too. Now she won't be sad."

The girl still in his arms, he turned to face her where she stood in the entry way. "Mommy's sad?"

"Abby," she began, momentarily ignoring the man, "Go clean up your toys please, so Rick has a place to sit." Rick placed the girl down on the ground and she scampered off towards the couch before he walked over to Kate, shrugging off his coat and then hanging it in the closet by the door. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she watched him complete this task.

"You said it was okay to stop by."

"Yes, but you didn't give me much context." She'd received a text from him barely thirty minutes earlier asking if it was ok if he swung by to say hello. She had agreed, but had also been curious as to whether or not he was up to something.

The writer shrugged. "No context. Mother took Alexis to some young future theater actors—something or other. Don't remember what she called it, but I'm certain it's for kids in their mid-to-late teens, but, yet there is no arguing with her—so I thought as long as I had a few hours free I'd come to see what you guys were up to."

Kate couldn't help but chuckle and shake her head as she walked into the kitchen to finish cleaning up from dinner. For the prior month, ever since Christmas, she had been getting progressively closer to the writer. The more she learned about him, the more she liked him. He truly was as kind and sweet as her first impressions told him he would be. In addition to their "girls' day" get together, she had also spent additional time with Alexis, as Castle had with Abby, in a greater effort for them all to be more familiar with each other. Crazy as it seemed in her mind, it truly felt as though they had known each other for a year or more instead of just three months. They just…fit.

"So why are you sad today?"

"Oh, ah." She glanced over to the living area to see that Abby was still busy cleaning up and thus out of ear shot. Leaning closer to him, she spoke quietly. "Not sad, but concerned. My CO told me today that Johnny was removed from his administrative leave and officially terminated from the NYPD for inappropriate conduct."

The writer nodded and slid his hands down into his pockets. "And...That's not a good thing? You were upset that his plea agreement gave him no real consequences assuming he completed his anger management treatment."

She let out a blip of laughter. "Yeah that's the thing: evidently he threatened his counselor."

"Nice."

"Not really...I'm worried about how he'll react to this. Plus, if nothing else, I've lost that income for a while. So much for finding a bigger place for Abby and I." They wouldn't be in dire straits without the child support funds as at least half of Johnny's money Kate had immediately deposited into a college fund for Abby, but things would go back to being tight, which meant the continuation of cheap meals and unfortunately moving the apartment hunt to the back burner for the eighth time.

"Kate if you're worried about money-"

"No Castle." She stopped his train of thought before it could continue. She already felt she owed him for the use of his lawyer, even though he refused to tell her the ultimate cost; the last thing she needed was to feel more in debt. "You've already done more than enough."

"I can do more; I want to."

"But this isn't your problem."

He pulled his hands from his pockets and reached out to her slowly. "May I?"

She offered a smile. "You don't have to ask permission anymore." She had reminded him of that the prior week when they had been watching a movie together at his place and he'd wanted to put his arm around her shoulders, but the fact that he still asked and generally respected her space meant the world to her.

He nodded and landed a hand on each of her shoulders, pulling her towards him. "I care about you, Kate, and I care about Abby. I want you both to be happy and if I—what?"

She shook her head and blinked her eyes trying to shake away the tears. Her hands landed on his chest and she smoothed them across the fabric. "I just...I never met anyone like you. How are you this wonderful?" He was wonderful. Extraordinary. Incredible. And everything else. He was one in a million.

He moved his hands from her shoulders to cup her jaw and her gaze dipped momentarily to his lips. Other than hugs, they had virtually no other physical contact sticking with their "getting to know each other as friends" plan, but with the kindness he was showing her, a hug simply wouldn't be enough. She wanted him to kiss her, and had for quite some time, only holding herself back because of her own concerned about intimacy thanks to vicious treatment from her ex. But Castle wasn't anything like him and it was time she let herself believe that fully.

Rising up onto her toes, Kate skimmed her hands over the writer's shoulders until they met behind his neck. His nose bumped into hers, she gave a soft little smile, then shut her eyes and tilted her head to the right.

Just as their lips were about to meet, they were startled by a violent pounding at her apartment door and a venomous voice shouting, "Open this door you stupid bitch! I know you're in there, whore!"

Kate remained frozen in the kitchen, her arms still around Castle's neck for an astoundingly long fifteen-second period during which she tried to convince her brain to believe that this was reality and not a nightmare she was experiencing.

"Johnny?" His breathy voice woke her from her trace and she nodded.

"Open this goddamn door!"

"Mommy?"

Kate's heart stuttered in her chest. God, oh god, Abby was here and Johnny was surely in a state of rage they had not yet experienced.

"I got her," Castle said, springing into action.

"The bedroom." She instructed before taking a few shaky steps towards the door.

* * *

"C'mon Abby, we're going to go in here." Without even asking permission, Castle ran over, scoped the girl up under her armpits and rushed her into the bedroom. As he had yet to be in the space, he had to turn on the light and survey the area to determine the best course of action.

Castle heard a muffled, "I'm going to kill you, stupid bitch," from the other room and his blood pressure spiked once more. Jesus, was this really what Kate and Abby had suffered through for six years?

His eyes scanning the room, Castle saw a door he assumed was a closet and rushed over to it. Whipping open the door, he found it stuffed to the brim with women's clothing both large and small. On the floor sat a shoe rack along with a pile of boot boxes. He set Abby down, yanked the shoe rack out of the way, and nudged her further into the closet. "Okay, Abby, I want you to sit here on the floor and I don't want you to come out unless your mother or I come get you, okay?"

Abby stepped into the closet, but didn't sit. Instead, she gazed up at him with her doe-eyes and asked, "Why is my daddy a bad man?"

He shook his head, grabbing on to the door so he could shut her in. "I don't know, baby; I'm so sorry. Please sit down."

She did as she was told, hugging her knees to her chest. "I don't want Daddy to hurt her anymore."

He shut his eyes, his heart breaking that someone so young had to experience such a horror. "I'm going to make sure he doesn't. I-" Castle cut off his speech when he heard a thundering crash come from the other room. Cursing under his breath he frantically instructed Abby to, "Stay here; don't move," and then shut the closet door on her.

Turning back towards the exit, he searched the immediate area to see if there was a weapon or anything he could use, but then thought better of it; it was best if they talked Johnny to a peaceful end rather than antagonize him with offensive weapons. He hurried back towards the door he'd left ajar, but he could immediately see that Johnny had broken into the apartment and was holding a gun to Kate's throat.

 _Fuck!_

Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he quickly dialed 911 and tapped his foot impatiently while waiting for the call to connect, all the while trying to ignore the heinous things Johnny was shouting at Kate. In that moment, he was never so thankful she was a trained police officer, and thus likely to remain as calm as anyone would in the face of a weapon.

"Hi, um, please send help,." Castle said when the operator answered. "There is a man here with a gun threatening a woman and her child; they're in grave danger." He then provided the building's address and apartment number before hanging up the phone. He pocked the device, took in a deep breath, and then stepped out into the main room not sure what the hell he was going to do, but unable to stand idly by when someone he cared for was in imminent danger.

Stepping into the room, Castle first began surveying the space. Johnny had grabbed the front of Kate's blouse and was holding her at arm's length, the barrel of the gun just under her jaw; she held her hands out to the side in a non-threatening manner. Glancing behind them, he could see that the door was open and half knocked off its hinges, which was good; when the police arrived they could come right inside and see what was going on.

Deciding it would be best to also keep his hands up and open showing he was not a threat, Castle did so before stepping forward and making his presence known with, "Whoa, hey. Let's calm down, okay?"

Johnny's eyes glanced in Castle's direction momentarily, but his weapon did not move from Kate's throat. Instead he gripped her shirt a bit rougher and demanded, "Who the fuck is this guy?!"

"Castle, Abby?"

"She's fine. We're all going to be fine. Why don't you just put the gun down, Johnny?"

His eyes turned blacker as he gazed at Kate. "Is he a cop? You're fucking another cop?"

"I'm not a cop." Castle jumped in before Kate could respond. "I'm just a guy who doesn't want anything bad to happen to either of these ladies, so why don't you put the gun down and we'll talk about it?"

Johnny ignored him, stuffing the gun's barrel deeper into Kate's throat. "I lost everything and it's your fault! You should have just kept your damn mouth shut!"

"You hurt our daughter, Johnny."

"Discipline, Kate." He sneered at her, curling his lips up and over his teeth. "You should try it. That's why you're a terrible mother. Abby would be better off without you."

Castle took two steps closer to the duo. "You have to know that's not true. All little girls need their mothers."

Johnny didn't even look at him; he just pressed the barrel of the gun so tight against Kate's throat that Castle heard her gag. "Not this one."

"Fine, Johnny." Kate managed, her voice clearly strained. "But your fight is with me. Let her go. Let Rick take her-"

"No! He can't have her!"

Fresh sweat formed across Castle's brow when the gun-wielding man looked at him, his cold, half-crazed eyes now turning animalistic and frantic. He had written characters like this, but never witnessed it himself: someone going over the edge. Suddenly, he'd wished that he'd informed the 911 operator that there was an officer in distress. Perhaps that would have summoned the police faster.

"Let Rick take Abby to the lobby, Johnny. He'll wait down there with her and we can figure this out. C'mon," she said, turning her body as much as she could and taking two steps backwards towards the refrigerator. "Let's go into the kitchen. Castle."

Her tone was leading, implying that he should follow the plan she'd verbally set forth, but the writer remained frozen. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Kate alone with Johnny; to leave them without witnesses. He feared doing so would mean the end of her, and that was unfathomable; they needed to stick together. "Kate, I don't think-"

"No! Just stop! Stop moving both of you!" Johnny growled and momentarily released Kate from his grasp as he brought one hand up to rake through his hair. "Just let me think!"

Kate took two steps back from him, clearly using this brief opportunity to put distance between them. "Johnny if you just let-"

"The cops!" Johnny shouted at the exact moment Castle heard approaching sirens. Finally! But couldn't they have come silently? He had implied a hostage situation in his phone call…

Johnny cradled his weapon in one palm while the other gripped the trigger, clearly ready to fire at any moment. "You fucking called the cops!?"

"How could I have called the cops?" She reasoned with him using alarming amounts of calm. "I haven't moved since you came in here."

Presumably realizing it would have been impossible to do so Johnny turned his gun away from her for the first time, and directed it towards Castle, who stepped back so quickly he nearly tripped over the edge of a rug.

"You."

Raising his hands higher above his head, Castle produced his lightest tone under the circumstances. "Hey, man, this is New York City—cops are everywhere all the time; you know that! Maybe there was a robbery at the bodega down the street, I don't know." His comment was weak at best, he knew, but he hoped it would be enough to deter the crazed man.

Johnny let out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a growl, reached back into the entryway, and roughly grabbed Kate by the arm and shoved her forward into the living area. She stumbled forward and Castle reached out and caught her before she could fall flat. They then stood side by side, their arms raised in surrender, as Johnny pointed the weapon at each of them in alternating intervals.

"Johnny, please put the gun down. We can figure this out. We can-"

Kate's bargains were interrupted by the shouting of, "NYPD! Hands up! Put your hands up!"

The next thing Castle heard was gunfire, and he instantly braced his body for pain, but it never came. Instead, he blinked his eyes and watched Johnny crumple to the floor. Evidently, he'd rotated towards the officers with gun in hand, and they saw him as a threat and treated him as such. Kate screamed out, though he wasn't sure if it was from shock or concern. Castle remained frozen, attempting to come to grips that he'd witnessed someone's death, when the soft call of, "Mommy?" pulled him back to reality.

Reacting as quickly as he could, Castle ran to the bedroom and practically football-tackled the little girl backwards, but instead of knocking her flat he scoped her up and spun her around. "No! No, Abby; stay in the bedroom!" Jesus Christ the last thing they needed was for her to see the now lifeless body of her father lying in a pool of blood.

Abby shrieked and squirmed in his arms, but he held her fast. "I want Mommy! Mommy!"

"It's okay, it's okay." He comforted her as best he could, holding her close to his chest despite her protests. "Mommy's okay; I promise. You're all going to be okay."

* * *

Lowering herself to the couch in Castle's apartment, Kate rested her elbows on her thighs and her head in her hands, still struggling to believe the prior few hours had actually taken place, and were not part of a vivid yet horrific dream.

Witnessing Johnny's death was not something Kate had anticipated happening in her life, particularly not that evening. As soon as she'd heard about him being let go, she braced herself for him to show up, possibly try to assault her, but she'd also been prepared to call the police, have him escorted from her home, and press charges against him for any damage he caused. This…this was never something she wanted to happen—least of all in front of Abby.

Thankfully, because of Rick's quick action, she had not seen anything that would scar her for life. They'd kept her in the bedroom until Johnny's body had been taken by the ME's and then when it was time to leave for the Castle residence, she'd tied a scarf around her daughter's eyes. Of course Abby protested, but Kate played the "I'm your Mom and you'll do what I say" card and then swiftly taken the scarf off once they were in the elevator.

Kate waited until they were outside to explain that Johnny had died. Abby was understandably confused, and asked if Kate shot him, but she told her that the police did because Johnny was trying to hurt all of them and they were afraid of him putting everyone in danger. Due to the late hour, Abby seemed to accept this explanation, and ended up falling asleep nestled between Kate and Castle on the way to his place, but Kate knew the following day would be filled with questions and answers she wasn't quite sure how to provide.

Not long after she sat down, she felt the writer join her, ghosting his hand down her spine until he hooked her hip with his left hand. "You okay?"

Kate lowered her hands enough to gaze at him as though he'd asked her if she was prepared to transform into a butterfly.

"I know, I know." He added quickly. "But…are you?"

She shook her head and then shrugged. "I don't know what I am. It still doesn't feel like it actually happened; that Johnny is gone for good. I guess part of me is relieved that it's over and he can't hurt us anymore but what happened today…"

He squeezed her hip. "I know."

She rubbed her fingers beneath her eyes and then turned her body so she could face him. "I'm so sorry you were there."

His expression showing shock, he moved his hand from her back to lay over hers, which sat in her lap. "Are you kidding me? I'm not. Who knows what could have happened if I didn't keep Abby away or if I hadn't called the police. I could have lost you both. I—I love you. I'm sorry if it's too soon for you to hear that, but it's true. I love you and Abby."

Kate felt as though his words had turned her to stone. She couldn't move and barely breathed as she stared at him, took note of the concern in his eyes, the worry lines across his brow. God, she had dreamed of that moment, when a wonderful man would tell her that he loved her and she would believe him. Though it felt crazy due to the short period of time over which they'd become acquainted, she believed he felt as he said, he was just a person who wore his heart on his sleeve far more than she was capable of.

"Kate?" he coached after thirty seconds of silence from her.

She shook her head and felt her bottom lip begin to tremble. God, she wanted to love him, but her heart had suffered so much damage she wasn't sure what loving someone even meant anymore. She had strong feelings for him—that was undeniable. He was the only man she'd let into her life in recent years and that didn't scare her—he didn't scare her—but she just needed more time to join him in that place. "I'm sorry, I…I'm not there yet, but I'm trying."

He brushed his thumb over her knuckles and gave her a reassuring smile. "That's okay; take as long as you need."

Gazing up into his eyes, which reflected serene pools of ocean blue, Kate felt an odd sense of calm wash over her. Yes, the day had been horrific, but somehow with Castle beside her, it seemed bearable. This would not become another pit she lost herself in, because he would be her light in the dark, guiding her through. Sitting there, she remembered for the first time that they had missed out on their first kiss thanks to Johnny's ill-timed arrival, but they were alone then, and had it not been for the arrival of the police response team, they could have been in far worse a state; the fact that they had made it through deserved to be celebrated.

Sliding one hand out from under his, Kate reached up and rested her palm against his face, stroking his cheek for a moment before leaning in and pressing her lips to his. His lips pressed back against hers gently, clearly letting her take the lead. When his hand skimmed her spine, her body trembled and a soft mew of want escaped her lips. It had been so long— _so long_ —since she had been close to anyone that she nearly forgot what it was like to kiss tenderly, lovingly by someone she cared for and trusted.

Within just moments Kate felt completely swept up by the emotional upheaval she faced that day and the new feelings swirling deep in her belly for the man who had just professed his love for her. Gripping his face with both of her hands she began kissing him hungrily, nipping at his bottom lip and sliding her tongue into his mouth until she heard him groan and it snapped her back to reality. She pulled back, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, considering whether or not she should apologize.

He did say anything, but smiled at her, and rubbed his thumb against her chin, which made her forget the apology, and curl her lips into a smile instead. She slid her hands from his jaw to around the back of her neck and leaned her forehead into his. "Thank you. I know it'll never be enough, but-"

"You're enough," he promised.

They sat side by side quietly for several moments before Castle began, "Feel free to say no to this—I won't be offended—but would you perhaps like to cuddle a while? Might make you feel a little better?"

She doubted anything short of a time machine would make her feel better, but cuddling didn't feel like that bad an alternative. "Maybe just a few minutes," she said, knowing that the closer it drew to midnight the wearier she felt.

They reorganized their position on the couch, with Castle reclining, his arms outstretched, and Kate tucking her body into his, draping one arm across his stomach and resting her head by his shoulder.

"I should warn you," the writer said as he closed his arms around her, "that cuddling with me is actually highly addictive."

She let out as much as a laugh as she could manage, all things considered. "Is that so?"

"Yes. I should come with a surgeon general's warning label."

She smirked as she cuddled closer to him. "Probably. But for an entirely different reason."

"Hey."

He poked one of her ribs, making her smile a little more, shut her eyes, and hugged his waist a little tighter. "Thanks Castle—for everything."

He brushed his lips over her forehead. "Any time."


	12. Chapter 12

**TWELVE**

"I am so sorry again about all of this."

Castle looked over at the detective and offered nothing but a smile. He sat in the guest chair beside her desk, while she sat in her proper chair, looking as official as ever in her black paint suit and white button-down shirt. Anyone who didn't know her well would have thought nothing out of the ordinary was going on in her life, but the writer could feel the stress pouring off of her and see the pain that had returned to her eyes.

"Kate." He sighed, skimming his hand across the edge of her desk, palm up. He waited until she'd placed her fingertips atop his before continuing with, "Please stop apologizing. I'm glad I was there, and I will gladly do anything to help you through this."

They had arrived at her precinct early that Saturday morning as instructed by the detectives from the night before. Per policy, they both needed to give official statements and sign them due to the officer involved shooting they witnessed. Since Johnny was in possession of a loaded weapon and was actively threatening several people, Kate assured Castle that the officer who had taken his life would most likely be cleared to return to duty after the investigation was closed. Their testimonies would help with that, as Johnny had made it clear he intended to take Kate's life and possibly do even more harm.

"You're already doing more than enough." Her eyes drifted towards the nearby conference room, where her daughter sat with a man she had introduced to him as Esposito, one of her colleagues in homicide. Thankfully, Abby had not witnessed the event, but since she was present, a detective speaking to her was a formality, which was being carried out by someone she was familiar with to lessen the trauma. After their conversation, Castle was taking Abby home with him so Kate could meet with her CO and then retrieve some more belongings from their apartment, which remained a crime scene.

"Still." He squeezed her hand and promised. "Whatever you need." She took her hand back and placed it in her lap while looking between her computer screen and the surrounding area of the bullpen for several minutes. As he saw her brow knitting together with progressively deeper wrinkles, the writer prompted her with, "What is it?"

Her voice barely above a whisper, she told him, "Despite everything he did, some people around here still really liked Johnny."

"How is that even-"

"Shh!" She hushed his louder-than-it-needed-to-be tone.

Castle huffed and lowered his voice. "But he was terrible."

"Not to them; they only saw him at work and he wasn't a bad cop. So now I'm…I'm the bad guy."

"You are a woman who suffered years of abuse."

She twisted her lips to the side. "That doesn't exactly give me more credibility as a cop."

He shook his head, refusing to believe what he was hearing. "What about what your partner said? Ryan, was it? He said you're excellent with victims and they'll miss you when you're on leave. I'm sure that's true—and as for everyone else? Some of them are probably just shocked and the rest you can just ignore. If they're taking Johnny's side over yours they're not people you should be friends with, anyway."

She gave a small smile. "I wish it were that simple."

Before anything more could be said, the conference room door opened and Abby emerged, playing with the zipper on her coat. Castle stood and nodded to the male detective before gazing down at the girl and saying, "Ready to go, Abs?"

She glanced up at him and then turned to her mother to ask, "Will you get my bunny from home?"

"Please." Kate coached.

"Please," Abby echoed.

"Yes, I will get him. I shouldn't be too much longer, but you have a nice time with Rick, okay bud?"

The little girl nodded and then reached up to take the writer's outstretched hand. He bid the detective goodbye and then led the way towards the elevator. Once they were inside the car and descending he asked, "Did you have a nice talk with Detective Espo?"

She shrugged. "I guess. I asked him why my daddy was a bad man and he said he didn't know."

"That's true—we don't always know why some people are good and others aren't. It's unfortunately part of life: sometimes we never get the answers we want most. I know it's hard—it's hard for you at your age, and for adults too—but it's just something you have to try to live with."

"I guess."

"C'mon," he said, squeezing her hand, "let's try to think about something happier, okay? Like…what do you want to do after we get home from picking up Alexis?"

She considered this as they stepped off the elevator and walked towards the exit. Once out on the street she asked, "Do you think she'd let me play with Hamlet?"

"Definitely." He smiled down at her. "We'll all play with Hamlet. Maybe we can even get him to go through another maze of cardboard tubes."

Abby smiled her first smile of the day. "Or he'll eat his way out like last time."

He chuckled. "That's very possible."

* * *

On Wednesday, not quite a week after Johnny's untimely death, Kate returned to Castle's apartment after her first official day back since passing her psych eval. Her captain wanted her to remain on desk duty for the first few days, which ended up being fine as she and her team were prepping for a court appearance the following week, but that didn't make the day any shorter. If anything, it made it feel longer—much, much longer.

Since a murder investigation had not pushed her past her scheduled hours, she was able to be home in time for dinner, which had her walking into the apartment to find Castle in the kitchen and both girls seated at the island counter working on their homework. The sight caused her heart to flutter as she stood quietly by the door, taking it in. For the first time she pictured a future in which this was the scene she arrived home to every day. It still seemed crazy since she had not known the Castle clan more than a few months, and she quickly shook away the thought, excusing it as being a product of her overly-emotional state, but still the notion was there, and she could not help but think it might one day come true.

They had a nice meal, with the girls regaling Kate with tales from school that day, before Alexis went off with Castle to review a homework question while Kate cleaned up their dishes and Abby sat quietly reading a book. Their evening routine continued with Abby's shower, picking out school clothes for the next day, and a five minute back rub from her mother to help her fall asleep.

Nearly another hour passed before Kate had finished cleaning up and throwing in a load of laundry before she could join the writer on the couch. He muted the sports channel he had on the television and skimmed his hand down her spine, not saying anything but waiting for her to bring up whatever she wanted to talk about. This was the pattern they had fallen into over their days of cohabitation and Kate could not even begin to express how much she appreciated it. Before Castle, she would have sat alone in her apartment, all the stressing thoughts she had simmering around in her mind until she finally gave up and went to bed, but now she could talk things through with him, be comforted by his embrace and, perhaps most importantly, end the evening with a tender kiss.

"I found out today that Johnny's funeral will be on Saturday."

Though she dealt with death every day, something about the word "funeral" had the emotions bubbling within her once more. For the prior few days she had retreated into her survival mode—bottling up her emotions like she had to while on the job and being strong for her daughter, but the prospect of a final goodbye had eroded that strong exterior and she felt exposed once again.

She wasn't sad or upset because Johnny was gone. He was a man that had caused her nothing but agony, stress, and suffering for years and while she would not have wished death on him, she was glad he was gone from their lives and could never come back. For Abby, however, it was a different story. Sniffing back tears she said, "I just never wanted this for her, you know? I had to bury a parent at nineteen, which is bad enough, but she's only six."

"Kate." The writer's strong hand moved from the center of her back to her shoulder, where he gave it a firm squeeze. "I don't take what I'm about to say lightly in any way but: isn't she better off without him?"

Using the back of her thumb, she brushed a tear from her cheek. "Yes…yes, if he was going to hurt her the way that he had then yes, she is better off but…but I don't know. What if therapy helped him? What if he could have changed?"

"The man I saw didn't seem like someone who was going to become warm and fuzzy overnight, Kate. He hurt you a multitude of times, including giving you a concussion, attacking you while you were pregnant and forcing himself on you. He belonged in jail or, at the very least, out of your lives, which you were actively trying to achieve. I'm not saying how it all ended wasn't unfortunate and of course there's always the possibility that in time he would have changed his ways, but what I saw Kate? He was dangerous."

She gazed over at the man who wanted nothing more than to protect her and her daughter and nodded. "Yeah…you're right."

After a moment he took in a deep breath. "As for Abby…I grew up without a father and I'm not half bad, right?"

She almost laughed at his absurd comment. Half bad? That descriptor seemed to be an insult. Leaning her body into his she promised, "You're wonderful."

"Besides," he continued, just as casually as ever, "though her biological father might be gone, that doesn't mean she won't have a constant father-figure in her life again someday."

Kate felt her heart stutter in his chest as his words. Of course he did not outright say it, but the coy smile playing on his lips as he spoke made it clear he intended for that "father-figure" to be him. She wasn't upset or disappointed; if anything, the opposite was true. Still, at that point, she didn't trust herself to respond to the statement for fear of breaking down; everything still felt too raw. Instead, she reached her hand over, gave his knee a squeeze and leaned her body against his.

They sat in silent for several moments before she rasped out, "What am I supposed to do about the funeral? I'm not sure that I can show up there, but Abby should go."

"Not alone; we'll all go."

"Rick-"

"Ah," he cut her off before she could protest any more. Leaning away enough to look down at her he continued, "I know you're going to say no, but let me just stop you before you do. We're in this, Kate—together. All of us: you, me, Abby, and Alexis."

She shut her eyes as his hand closed over hers. He was so different than anyone she'd ever met before. Endlessly positive and upbeat in a way that her brain barely understood. There would have been no way for her to make such a comment to him unprompted, but at the same time it didn't feel untrue, just a place she had not yet arrived to. Instead of saying something that might have hurt him, she decided to side-step the situation. "As much as I appreciate that, I really don't think Alexis should be there. I imagine Johnny's family will be…unhappy with me, to say the least. Besides, she's only twelve and it's a funeral for someone she doesn't know." She added with a scrunched nose.

He nodded. "Fair enough. I'll find someone to watch her then, but I'm definitely going with you."

Kate nodded, leaned in, and gave him a quick kiss before saying, "Thank you." She truly did not know how Johnny's family could react, though none of the half-dozen scenarios in her mind were of the positive variety, but she was also glad she didn't have to face them alone. She knew without question they would blame her for Johnny's death, and she had accepted that—not that it was right, but it was simply the culture of his family. Johnny's father had ruled with his fist and she imagined his brothers behaved similarly with their families. That was not, however, the way she intended to live or the world in which she would bring up her daughter, so if she had to be the 'bad guy' in their eyes, so be it; she knew she had done nothing wrong.

They settled back against the couch cuddled against each other, with his arm over her shoulders and her head tucked against his neck. They remained their quietly for several minutes before the writer asked her if anything else happened that day to which she said, "Oh, well, CSU finally released my apartment so Abby and I can move back as soon as its cleaned up."

"I was actually hoping for good news, Kate."

She squeezed his leg with her hand. "That is good news—we do need to get back to normal, but I'm sure it will turn into bad news again as soon as I get the cleaning estimate."

He sighed and pressed his lips against her forehead. "I'll take care of that."

"No 's fine." She sighed into his shoulder. "Should only be a few hundred."

"Kate." He spoke in a firm tone. "You're losing your child support income; let me cover the cleaning costs."

Feeling too weary to argue she sighed out an acceptance and then kissed his shoulder and thanked him once more. He pulled her body in a bit closer and promised, "Always."

* * *

 **A/N:** As always, thank you for your passionate reviews! They mean so much!

Reminder - this story has 14 chapters + an epilogue, but I will tell you now that Ch 14 will be split in half and the "M" rated portion will be posted as its own fic

Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**THIRTEEN**

"Mommy?"

"Yes baby?" Kate asked, gazing up into the dark, innocent eyes of her daughter as she helped tug black tights up and over her knees.

"Do I have to be sad at daddy's funeral today?"

Kate finished pulling the tights up to her daughter's waist and then tugged her black dress down into its proper position. She sat back on her heels and gently held Abby's forearms. The death of her daughter's father was, without question, the most difficult parenting hurdle—well, series of hurdles—Kate had ever had to navigate, but she was trying to do her best while also keeping things as age-appropriate as she possibly could. "Well, no. You can feel however you want to feel, but you also need to be respectful of the fact that others will be feeling sad—like Nonna."

Abby nodded. "I know, but I'm not sad he's gone. I didn't want him to hurt me again. Or you."

Kate fought a wince as her stomach rolled in her gut. She had been so on edge that morning she had only had one piece of toast for breakfast, but even that was beginning to feel like a mistake. She hated that Abby had to have such thoughts. She wanted to protect her daughter from the horrors of her father so she didn't suffer in the same ways she had. Yet, at the same time, letting Abby believe her father was perfect and innocent would have been a disservice to them all; it was simply an unfortunate situation from every viewpoint.

The fact of the matter was: Johnny was an abusive person, and because of his actions he would not get the chance for redemption. Kate did not want her daughter to have long-term ill feelings towards her father, but she could not deny the validity of those sentiments. With Johnny gone, she did not have to worry about him hurting either of them again, and that was certainly a relief.

"Abby listen: no one is going to hurt you like that again; I promise you. I will keep you safe." Not reporting Johnny's physical abuse had been her mistake and it would not happen again. If she had any inkling in the future that a person might be dangerous or abusive, she would prohibit Abby to contact them. They would not go down this path again; she had promised herself that.

Abby rotated her body back and forth, causing her skirt to swish out as her tiny brow furrowed. "What about Rick?"

"Rick would never hurt us." Kate promised her; that was why they still stayed in his guest room after a week.

The little girl shook her head. "No! I meant—won't Rick keep me safe, too? He kept me safe when Daddy tried to hurt us."

Kate relaxed her face into a smile and squeezed her daughter's hands. "Yes, baby; Rick will keep you safe, too. Do you have anything else to ask before we go?"

When Abby shook her head, Kate helped her slip on her black flats and then she led the way down to the apartment foyer, where Rick waited with a black dress coat for Abby. Since her only winter coat was a brightly colored puffy one, she was borrowing an old coat of Alexis's, which was still too large, but much more funeral appropriate.

"Let's see if we can roll these up, okay Abs?" Rick said as he dropped to one knee and helped the young girl with the far too long coat sleeves. Once she was settled, he stood back up, adjusted the black blazer on his own suit, and flashed Kate a smile. She mouthed "thank you" to him and he merely bobbed his head. "C'mon ladies; let's go."

* * *

Stepping into the church, Kate felt her entire body seize up with anxiety. They were about twelve minutes early for the services, which meant that most of the Giannotti clan had already arrived and were scattered around the interior of the church. As she had been involved with Johnny for over seven years, Kate knew most of them by name, but none of them very well, particularly since she and Johnny's romantic relationship was terminated before Abby's birth.

As they stepped in through the atrium, a dozen pairs of eyes landed on them, and Kate busied herself with removing Abby's coat. She had never been so thankful for the six-foot-one man hovering protectively behind her. Though she knew Castle's presence would not prevent her from getting a severe tongue-lashing, she knew nothing would escalate as long as he was there; sadly her status as a trained officer of the law would not be enough, as many of them were as well.

Abby spotted Johnny's mother sitting towards the front of the chapel and bent over to whisper in her daughter's ear that she should go and say hello, thinking it best that Abby not be within ear-shot when she came face to face with angry relatives. Thankfully, Abby scampered off just as Kate saw Johnny's elder brother, Tony, approaching with a menacing scowl on his face.

"You need to leave." He hissed once he was in ear shot. "It's your fault he's dead."

Kate shook his head, looking the elder man squarely in the eye. "It's Johnny's fault he's dead and I'm only here for Abby since she couldn't come alone. We'll stay in the back."

"You'll wait outside."

She shook her head in protest. "I can't leave Abby alone in here." It wasn't as though she feared a member of Johnny's family would try to take Abby from the church without her knowledge—that thought actually had not entered her mind. Her concern was only for Abby. If she got upset and was looking for her mother, she would be unable to find Kate if she was standing outside.

Tony nodded to the woman several feet behind him, also scowling at Kate. "Maria will keep her with the rest of the kids. You can come get her after the service."

Kate's opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it when she felt Castle's hand land on her shoulder. She was the one that had told him she wanted to remain very under the radar that day so as not to ruffle any feathers, so if they wanted her to wait outside, she would wait outside, but not before telling her daughter where she went.

* * *

"Well that could have gone worse," Castle commented when Kate joined him on the steps outside the church five minutes later.

She quirked her lips to the side and gave a rather ungrateful, "Thanks."

He shrugged. "Just tryin' to find the bright side. It's not your fault, you know." He had assured her of that fact several times since Johnny's passing, but felt it was worth mentioning again given how his family acted. Of course the writer was not at all surprised that his relatives blamed Kate; that seemed the only natural reaction for a family whose culture not only accepted but might have even encouraged a firm hand towards one's wife and children, but that didn't make it right.

She nodded to him. "I know that. Johnny was only kicked off the force because of what he did to that anger management councilor; he would have had a police funeral if it wasn't for that."

Castle huffed under his breath. "He didn't deserve to be buried a hero. No one who would do that to a child should be, but I understand that they would disagree."

"That's one way to put it." She muttered.

Castle offered a small smile and reached out to squeeze her arm. Yes, he imaged Johnny's relatives—Johnny's cop relatives—were quite infuriated that he did not get a hero's funeral, but Castle was glad. It would have made him sick to watch the processional, for it was a misrepresentation of the man himself. Yes, Johnny may have done respectable work as a law officer, but his domestic abuse negated that several times over in Castle's mind.

"You don't have to wait if you don't want to," Kate said, stuffing her hands down into her coat pockets and pacing along the topmost step.

He gave her an incredulous look. "I'm obviously not leaving you here alone. I think I saw a Starbucks up the block. C'mon—let's get out of this cold."

Though she looked hesitant for a moment, Kate ultimately nodded and allowed him to take her arm and lead her down the steps towards the sidewalk.

* * *

Castle smiled and opened his arms wide when Kate descended the stairs after putting Abby to bed. She stepped off the bottom step and fell willingly against his chest. He kissed her head and closed his arms around her shoulder, pulling her in close while sighing out. "You've had a week, haven't you?"

He felt her laugh against his chest. "'s not over yet; still gotta move our stuff back in tomorrow, get everything organized for Abby's school this week, find something for her lunches..."

"Anything I can do?"

She turned her head so she could kiss his upper chest through his t-shirt and slid back from his embrace, giving a pointed look. "You already do enough."

When she walked towards the sitting area e trailed after he saying, "Still...I hate seeing you this stressed."

She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "We'll be fine, Castle; I promise. We just need to find our routine again."

He hummed, considering the variety of ways he could make her life easier, or lower her stress. After a moment, the perfect idea came to him. "How about next weekend I give you a full body massage?"

She gazed at him as though he'd suggested a weekend trip to Mars. "A what?"

He smiled enticingly, loving the suggestion even more as it marinated in his mind. "A massage. C'mon—when's the last time you had a massage?"

Her eyes darted back and forth for a moment as she thought. "I...don't know that I ever had one—a professional one, I mean."

His jaw nearly dropped at that travesty. "Well then I'll definitely get you one of those, too, but for now I do believe I am pretty skillful—I even took a class." It had been a Christmas gift from his first wife during their second year of marriage. He always thought himself to be a decent enough self-taught masseuse, but apparently Meredith thought his skills were lacking, so with a bruised ego he went off to the class, but it ended up being quite useful in his life. It may have even been the best gift she ever got him during their relationship—which was saying something.

"When?"

He flipped his hand casually. "Oh years ago." Taking a step closer, he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "So are you in? You and Abby can sleep over and-"

She held up a hand to stop him. "Just when did you imagine this taking place?"

"Friday or Saturday night depending on your schedule. You cannot rush a relaxing massage Kate—then it's not relaxing." He had every intention of relaxing her to the point where she did not want to move for several hours—preferably until the next morning, and if that meant they shared a bed for the duration, he certainly wouldn't complain.

She grazed her teeth over her bottom lip. "I, ah, don't get off shift until seven on Friday, so Saturday is better."

Grinning, he said, "Saturday it is. But as long as you're here—one last cuddle for the road?" She let out a breathy laugh and nodded in acceptance and he reached out his hand to grasp hers, but had only taken two steps away from the sitting area when she dug in her heels to stop them.

"Where are you taking me?"

He thumbed in the direction of the bedroom. "Well I thought we'd do more of a spoon and it's too hard to do that on the couch. Or is this too much?"

"No, it's okay."

Though her words were positive, her expression still looked hesitant so he added, "Don't say that just because you're appeasing me."

She offered a pleasant smile. "No. it really is. Just…let me change first?"

As she remained in her funeral dress he nodded, "Of course. Just come back down when you're ready."

Snuggled in Castle's embrace, Kate might have found it hard to fight sleep were it not for the thoughts bouncing around inside her mind. Surprisingly, her thoughts did not reside with the ex who was laid to rest earlier that day. As stressful and tragic as the situation was, Kate felt a significant sense of closure while picking up her daughter from the church that afternoon. That part of her life was over and, though there might be some resurrected feelings as they worked out visitation arrangements so that Abby could visit her grandmother, she was prepared to move past it.

In Kate's mind, moving on from Johnny meant moving towards a relationship—a real relationship—with Castle. She wasn't prepared to return his loving sentiments quiet yet, but drawing ever closer and nothing helped her more than his constant support over the prior week. She looked forward to each evening cuddle with him, as it was something she had not had in over six years; she had forgotten just how relaxing it was and what a relief it was for her emotionally.

When she felt the writer's arm tighten around her waist she hummed out, "Can I tell you something?"

"Always."

She rolled onto her back so that she could turn her head and gaze at him while his hand resided at her waist, his thumb gently grazing across her ribs. "This has really helped me over the past week—being close with you. Back before we met I thought I was doing fine and I guess I could have kept going like that a little longer, but I didn't realize how much I was still living in survival mode. I guess I never really had someone I could depend on, who would comfort me and be there for me. Someone I could trust. I'm glad that person is you."

He moved his hand from her waist to her jaw and brushed his thumb over her cheek. "I'm glad that person is me too."

He leaned in to kiss her and she kissed him back soundly then pressed a few extra kisses against his bottom lip before shifting positions so that her head was on his shoulder and her arm draped across his stomach. "You wanna stay here tonight?"

She traced her finger down his side and said, "I do, but I shouldn't. If Abby wakes up and doesn't know where I am…"

"Leave her a note."

Kate laughed. "Castle."

"Kate, I know you want to protect her and I understand that instinct completely as a single parent. Given everything that's happened I understand you feel it even more, but Abby is strong, just like her mom. You don't need to be by her side every second."

She let out a slow breath and considered his statement. Rationally, she knew he was right. Abby was getting older and she was as strong as Castle said she was. Part of their healing process meant finding their footing both together and separately. Johnny was gone and couldn't hurt either of them again, so Kate's helicopter presence was no longer needed, though she knew it would be tough to let go.

Lifting her chin, she gazed into the kind, blue eyes of her companion, and felt an invisible string wrapping around her heart and drawing her into him; she couldn't have stopped it if she wanted to. "Okay," she agreed softly. "I'll stay."

* * *

 **A/N** : again as a reminder - 1 more chapter + epilogue and Ch 14 will be split in to the T & M rated portions with the M rated being posted a a separate fic

thanks for all your reviews!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** As previously stated the M portion of this chapter has been removed and will be posted as a separate fic. If you choose to read the M portion, i do recommend reading everything chronologically. The M part falls in the middle of the chapter where the double line break is; should be fairly obvious :)

* * *

 **FOURTEEN**

"Wha—oh my god! What is all this!?" Kate half-gasped, half-laughed when she was finally allowed into the master bedroom at the loft.

After spending the morning doing household chores, Kate and Abby went to hang out with the Castles in the afternoon, and ate dinner there as well. Every free moment they had when the girls were out of ear-shot, the writer reminded her about her _special_ massage that evening. From all the build-up, she did not think he could possibly deliver on his promises, but she reserved judgement until after she'd put Abby to bed and Castle requested that she remain in the living area until he called for her.

When that time came, she entered his bedroom and was rendered speechless at the transformation. Vanilla-scented candles rested on practically every flat surface, their flames the only source of light in the room. The writer had pulled off the heavy comforter from the bed, leaving only the sheet, and had a clear place designated at the foot of the mattress for her to lie while he delivered his promised massage.

Honestly, when he had suggested the idea, Kate was not sure what to think. Despite his comments about taking a professional massage class, she had expected only a shoulder rub combined with a foot rub—and certainly would not have complained about it!—but this…this was much more involved and entirely unexpected.

"I told you," the writer said using a soft baritone. She looked over to see him hovering just outside the alcove that led to his bathroom, the sleeves of his blue plaid button-down rolled up to the elbow. "I want to give you a relaxing massage."

"But this is…involved." She said, gesturing towards the flickering candle display.

The writer gave a casual shrug as though he'd gone to no trouble at all. "I just wanted to set a relaxing mood. Now, I'll step out into the hall while you undress and you can-"

"Undress!?" She echoed, a slight squeak to her voice. "Why? Was this all a ploy to get me naked!?" She didn't think he was that low—or that inconsiderate of her feelings. He had not been to date, so she never suspected he would be, but perhaps, she thought as she took a half step back, he was after all.

"Oh, no, no," he said as he quickly approached. "That's just how massages are done—you can't do them with clothes on; the clothes get in the way, but don't worry; you won't be laying there naked. You can use the sheet." He held up the white folded item from the edge of the bed and held it out to her as though it was a peace offering.

She took it, though with notable hesitation, so he added, "I promise, I won't see you naked if you don't want me to."

He smiled at her reassuringly and stepped past her to leave the room so she could change, but before he could she stopped him by saying his name softly and then apologizing for her overreaction.

"No need to apologize; I understand you were just confused, so forget about it—it's time to relax." He reminded her before slipping out of the room.

Kate dropped the sheet back on the corner of the bed and shook her head as she began to shed her clothes. As she had never received a real massage, she was not fully familiar with the protocol, but now that she thought about it she realized that advertising images of spas usually did show women's bare shoulders, but she had not quite considered the fact that she would need to take off her panties as well. Or—maybe she didn't? She decided to leave them on, just in case.

Once her clothing was folded on the chair beside the bed, Kate lay face down on the end of the mattress and tucked the sheet around her before calling out for the writer to rejoin her in the room. "Is this okay?" she asked him referring to her position.

"Sure, except you can't have the sheet tucked up around your neck, Kate."

"Oh." Her cheeks turned pink at his playful tone. "Sorry."

"Nope its fine."

Kate relaxed her head down against the mattress as Castle rolled back the sheet, exposing her back almost all the way down to her hips. A moment later his hands began stroking down her spine and she let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure. Maybe this massage was a good idea after all.

* * *

"Kate?"

The writer's breath tickled Kate's ear as he spoke her name softly, his hand resting on her left shoulder blade. She merely grunted in response, having been mere moments from sleep thanks to his dutiful massaging of every muscle group on her back side.

"Are you awake?"

"Barely."

His hand smoothed in gentle circles. "Well if you want to roll over, I can massage your front."

At this comment, both her eyes popped open and she turned her head to see him wearing a soft smile. "What…what are you going to massage on my front!?"

He chuckled, presumably at her slightly scandalized tone. "Well your arms and hands, but I'll also do your neck and shoulders from a different angle."

She shut her eyes once more as this made perfect sense. She hummed, "Okay," and made to roll over, but found her body feeling oddly weighted down. _Damn_ he was good at massages, wasn't he? Somehow, all the knots in her shoulders and upper back had disappeared completely, and he wasn't even done yet!

Once she was on her back, she felt him tuck the sheet around her sides and then pick up her left arm and begin to massage down the length of each finger.

* * *

Finishing kneading the palm of Kate's right hand, Castle set it back down on the bed and brushed his thumb over her wrist. "Are you relaxed now?" he asked barely above a whisper. He surely hoped so given how he had massaged out the kinks in almost every muscle group she had.

A soft smile crossed her face and she cracked one eye open to look at him. "Incredibly. How many massage classes did you take?"

"Just the one, but it was ninety minutes."

She let out a contented exhale. "Worth it."

Smiling to himself, Castle sprawled out on the bed beside her and brushed his lips across the apple of her cheek. Nuzzling his nose against her hairline, he whispered into her ear, "Someday when you're ready I'll even give you one with a happy ending." That was, after all, the most fun part of sensual massages between couples. As much as he enjoyed feeling her body give in to relaxation beneath his fingertips, he'd love it even more when those same fingers could coax her into falling apart completely.

Castle truly had meant his comment to be light and jokey, but when her eyes popped open and she spoke his name hesitantly he feared he may have spoken prematurely.

Pushing himself up with his palm flat against the bed, he promised her in a soft tone, "I said when you're ready, Kate; there's no rush at all. Hey—relaxing massages don't need tears." He brushed his thumb over her cheek to catch one of the sliding droplets, though more continued to fall.

Kate sat up, using one hand to keep the sheet against her body, and using the other to latch on to his wrist and bring his knuckles to her lips. "Do you know how amazing you are?"

"I've been told once or twice," he joked in avoidance of their earnest moment.

She gripped his wrist a little harder. "Rick, I'm serious. I...I don't know how I could ever possibly live up to how incredible you're being to me."

He shook his head. "You deserve it." In his mind, after being through six years of horrors, she deserved to be treated like royalty. A candle-lit massage? That was the least he could do and he planned on doing more and more in order to make her feel loved, safe, and treasured for the duration of their relationship, which he hoped to be a very, very long time.

Still keeping his hand close to her face, she gazed up at him, tentative. "You know I haven't been with anyone since…"

He swallowed hard as her eyes had darkened along with her comment. "Yeah I know."

"But, maybe…" Her voice drifted off as she let go of the sheet covering her torso. As she was sitting up, it dropped away from her body, bunching up on her lap and exposing her breasts to him.

He glanced down, but only for a moment before meeting her eye again and opening his hand so he could cup her chin. "I don't want it to be too soon," he said while also meaning, _I don't want it to be something you regret_ , but her gaze was steady and clearly wanting.

Using her grasp on his wrist, she moved his hand from her jaw to cover her right breast. "It's not." Then, she leaned over and kissed him.

* * *

Kate opened her eyes the following morning to see the face of the writer smashed down into his pillow with his mouth slightly open. His hair was mussed and standing up at odd angles and he was probably drooling into his pillow, but she didn't care; just the sight of him brought a grin to her face so wide her cheeks ached, but that didn't matter.

This wonderful, incredible, amazing man was now her lover—the first real, true one she'd ever had in her adult life and she was willing to bet there was a strong likelihood he would be her only—and she wouldn't mind that one bit. Not only was he impressively skilled at bringing her pleasure, but more than that he had continually made sure that she was okay with their coupling, her first since the assault, which made the experience even more meaningful and enjoyable. It truly had been healing for her, and for that she had him to thank.

Rolling onto her back, Kate cursed herself for thinking even for one second the night before that his intentions had been impure. She fully knew the massage was not a ploy to get her to sleep with him. He would have been happy ending evening with just snuggling, but she was glad she had made the decision to begin their physical relationship. It was the right, perfect moment.

Several minutes later she heard her companion grumbling as he fought the end of sleep. She rolled to her side again and gently caressed the side of his face with her right hand until he opened his eyes and smiled at her. He turned his head to kiss her inner wrist and then sighed out, "Morning. You sleep okay?"

"Very okay."

"Me too."

She traced her index finger over the shell of his ear before drawing back her hand and tucking it beneath her cheek. "You're an excellent masseuse." She could feel the leftover effects of his kneading in the muscles around her neck, which were always the tightest.

He smiled a cheeky grin at her. "Is that all I'm good at?"

She bit down on her bottom lip, fighting to grumble at the fact that he seemed to be fishing for compliments. That was okay, though, he deserved them after the night he'd given her. "One or two other things come to mind. I love you." After she'd said them the night before, those three words weren't scary to her anymore. At the time, he'd asked whether or not her post-orgasmic state had influenced her feelings and she had told him no, but maybe that had been a slight misrepresentation.

After he'd unraveled every inch of her, she did feel particularly amorous towards him—more so than she ever had before—but that did not make her confession a lie. She did love him for many, many reasons, not least of which the fact that he made her feel safer than she had in years. Even though they had not known each other for very long, they had been through more than most together, which drew them closer together and she was grateful for that, because it showed her how incredible he was and made it easy to fall completely in love with him.

He brushed his lips over hers. "I love you, too. C'mon," he said, tossing back the sheet, "let's shower before the munchkins get up."

She sat up with a bit less enthusiasm. "Shower? You're not trying to squeeze in round three, are you?"

He winked at her. "So what if I am?"

When Kate stepped into the large glass shower in the master bath, she had to admit being endlessly perplexed as to what the hell she was looking at. She didn't even know how to turn on the water! Evidently, highly successful mystery writers had high-tech bathroom gadgets with massaging jets and different pressure sprays that needed an instruction manual.

Fortunately, when Castle joined her a moment later, he was able to provide a brief instruction that had water cascading down on them from above and from the side. The side jets startled her, which had them sharing a laugh, before kissing and skimming their hands over each other's bodies. After just a few moments she could feel his readiness against her hip so she turned around to adjust the side-spraying jets lest they ruin the mood by pummeling her in the face.

Castle pressed his body up against her back, skimming one hand over her chest and the other between her legs. His lips landed at the back of her shoulder, but only for a moment, before he pulled back and said her name tentatively.

She only half turned around as she asked, "What's wrong?"

With a wrinkled brow he asked, "Are you okay with this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Me behind you—I don't want to trigger you or anything…"

It took her a moment to catch his implication and when she realized he was referring to the position in which her assault took place, she felt flustered, for that had not even entered her mind. "I'm not—you're not—I mean." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before stepping up to him and skimming her fingertips over the base of his jaw. "You're nothing like him, Rick, in every possible way. I've never once felt unsafe around you and I love that you care enough to check, but I promise I'm okay and if I'm ever not, I will let you know."

He smiled and said, "Okay," before kissing her once more.

* * *

Opening his eyes once all the soap was rinsed from his hair, Castle found his companion gazing at him with a rather peculiar expression. Her hair, too, was soap-free, but she stood beneath the water spray with one hand cupping the back of her neck, and the other wrapped around her waist, her expression unreadable. As their latest round of making love had been just as wonderful as the other as far as he was concerned, he saw no reason for anything other than an ear-to-ear grin so he asked her, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She replied quickly, shaking her head. "Nothing's wrong and it's…I don't know." She shrugged and gave him an expression of wonderment. "I'm just astounded at how amazing you are. I'd lost faith because of Johnny, because of my father. I didn't think men as wonderful as you even existed, let alone that I would find one."

Castle stepped forward and settled his hands at her shoulders. While he appreciated the complements as far as he was concerned she deserved something wonderful after all the horrors she'd been through. In fact, she deserved only wonderful from that point forward. She deserved a stress-free life—well, as stress-limited life she could live with her current profession—where she was doted on and cared for, where she didn't have to worry about violence or money. He wanted to give her all those things and was almost surprised he had not come up with the idea before that moment.

"I'm yours, Kate and…I think you should move in here with us—you and Abby. Let's be a family."

Her eyes widened and she backed away from his touch to the other side of the overhead shower spray. "R-Rick, we've barely known each other three months! Only been together officially for—I don't even know."

"Since Christmas." He assured her, though it may as well have been since the day they met; he hadn't thought about anyone else in that time period.

"Still..." She folded her arms over her breasts. "It's a little soon."

He bobbed his head, disappointed, but only slightly. Three months was rather quick; he had certainly never lived with a woman before after just three months. While he was confident they would end up moving in together, he could not fault her for wanting to take things a bit slower. "I'll ask again in a few months then. Like after we go to the Hamptons this summer."

"The Hamptons?" She arched an eyebrow and stepped up closer to him once again. "Fancy."

He shrugged. "I have a house out there."

Her eyes bulged. "You...do?! They're so expensive!"

A breathy laugh escaped his lips. "Kate I don't know if you know this but I'm a little bit wealthy."

Smirking, she looped her arms around his neck. "You don't say. What do you do again?"

He skimmed his hands down her spine until they landed on her ass. "C'mon it's just a little...ten thousand square foot bungalow—no big deal."

"Oh my god; you're ridiculous!"

"Nah. Alexis picked it; she loves it. Abby will too. I'm in this Kate." He promised, moving his hands to her hips so he could tug her even closer. Three months or three years—it didn't matter; he was certain he would feel the same about her—about their budding family—no matter how long they'd known each other.

She rested her forehead against his before sighing out, "Me too."

They held each other for several moments before sharing a kiss and returning to the task of showering. It wasn't until they were toweling off in front of the fogged up mirror that Castle asked her, "So…if you're not moving in here, how are we going to work this?"

"Work what?"

He gestured between them and said, "The sex."

Her cheeks turned a rose color as she continued to squeeze the excess water out of her hair. "Oh…well, um, unfortunately while your daughter might be old enough to be left unattended mine is not so we might be restricted to evening weekends when I'm not working."

He clicked his tongue in displeasure. "That's barely once a week!"

"Sorry."

He considered the predicament for a moment before saying, "What if I get babysitters? Yeah c'mon," he continued to coax as her expression turned hesitant, "we'll leave the girls here at my place with the sitter and then you and I will go to your place and, ah, enjoy each other's company."

"You seem to have this pretty planned out."

He shrugged. "Well I've given it a whole thirty seconds of thought so…"

She laughed and playfully hit him with her towel. "You're crazy!"

"I know. But," he paused to snag her waist and pull her body against his, "you love it."

She smiled and kissed him. "Yeah, I really do."

* * *

 **A/N** : Thank you all so much for all your kind review for this story; i'm so glad that you've all enjoyed it so much

And as those personally attacking me seem to have drifted away, I'm happy to announce I will be posting more multi-chaps on this site. More info on those after the epilogue!

finally, i will also be participating in this weekend's Castle Pornado on Tumblr where at least one of my pieces will be cross posted on this site. enjoy! :)


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Standing out on the deck at his beach house, Richard Castle stood up on his tip-toes, his tongue trapped between his teeth, as he finished stringing up the banner that read, "Happy Adoption Abby!" in bold, black lettering. Was he going over the top? Possibly, but that was also his way; he wouldn't be Richard Castle if he wasn't going over the top about something. Besides, this was a day to be celebrated thoroughly.

Once the sign had been looped over the light fixture, Castle stepped back to admire his handiwork and—oh. Well, the sign did droop down pretty far over the sliding glass door. So far that it would be difficult for an adult to get in and out, but that was okay; they could just go in and out the regular door that led to the hall by the kitchen and bathroom. Most importantly the sign looked great and Abby was going to love it.

Despite the fact that they had originally agreed to take their relationship slowly, Kate and Castle's had turned into a rather whirlwind one anyway. They became engaged over Labor Day weekend and Abby and Kate officially moved into the loft not long thereafter. While they planned their spring wedding, Castle had first broached the idea of officially adopting Abby once they were married to make their family official in every sense. A tearful Kate had happily agreed, and they began the paperwork, which was not officially completed until after their April wedding. Now that everything was legal, they were using the first warm weekend in May to invite their family out to the Hamptons to celebrate.

Just a minute after the sign was hung, Castle's wife and daughters joined him on the porch and he proclaimed, "Ta-da!" while sweeping his hand towards the sign. Both Abby and Alexis clapped while Kate said, "Very nice, babe."

Tugging on the skirt of her dress, Abby looked up at him and asked, "Do I get to have an adoption day and birthday every year now?"

"Sure why not!"

"Rick!" His wife scolded before bending down to look at her daughter. "No, Abby, just a birthday. Adoption day is a one-time only celebration."

When the girl looked slightly crestfallen, her father leaned down and stage-whispered, "We'll have our own celebration!"

She grinned, threw her arms around her neck and said, "Thanks Dad!" before scampering off towards the sand with her sister. Much to Castle's utter joy, Abby had been thrilled from the moment they told her about the adoption plan. She was happy about having "a new, better dad" and had been calling Castle by the moniker ever since.

"You," Kate said, dusting her fingers down the center of his chest, "are a terrible influence."

He shrugged and said, "I know, but it's part of my charm."

"It's part of something," she added, rolling her eyes.

"Hey." He poked her arm and then grazed his hand down it. "Is something wrong? You seem a bit…edgy and this is supposed to be a happy weekend."

"It is and I am happy but…" Her voice drifted off and she gazed down at the deck for a moment before whispering, "I…I think I might be pregnant."

"REALLY!?"

She jumped, startled by his enthusiastic outburst. Her brow wrinkling she said, "I…I thought we wanted to wait?"

Grin spreading across his face he pulled her into a hug. While planning a wedding, they had also spoken about having a third child together and agreed it was something they both wanted, but that they should wait until they were married at least a year before trying since their relationship had progressed so quickly. Now, it seemed those plans had been dashed, but Castle didn't care one bit. "It doesn't matter to me, Kate." He sighed into the top of her head. "I'm happy to have a baby with you any time."

She squeezed her arms around his waist and sighed, "I love you."

He kissed her head and squeezed her even tighter. "I love you, too."

* * *

 **A/N** : thank you all so much for your reviews on this story - I'm so glad you all stuck around for this admittedly different type of caskett journey.

Up next I have a variety of things, actually, but I think I'm going to start with **Something To Hold On To,** which is an AU twist on the end of 3x24 prompted by the prompt overlord herself, Lou (InkyCoffee). It will only be 3 parts and then we'll get into multi chap, **Back of the Beginning** , which is an AU-meet version of 1x01 assuming RC/KB previously knew each other.

...unless I get my rear-in-gear and do a WIP for the Summer ficathon? maybe? Guess you'll have to wait and see!


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